|Mark Jordan - Something Happened to me|
on the Way to the Fridge.
For starters, I'd like to begin with an illustration of an event that happened to me a few years back while driving to work in Tustin.
After waiting for the interminable red light to turn green on Irvine Boulevard, only a chip-shot from my favorite parking spot, I proceeded to cross the street only to be broadsided by an inattentive driver. While exchanging contact information, it didn't take all but a few seconds to establish that she was drunk - I mean plastered. That's right, in the morning - 9:20 to be exact.
As it turned out, the female, twenty-something, had been partying all night long and was just getting around to going home. Unfortunately for my new 300M, in her inebriated state, the glittering gold paint appeared to her as a beacon - like moth to flame.
Fast forward a couple of hours, after Ms. drunkette was taken away in handcuffs, the roadway swept and all the hoopla had faded, the tow truck was within 40% of completing it's job of dragging my car up onto its long flatbed. Suddenly, I heard the sound of squealing tires behind me. I turned to look. I could see a man in a large Mercedes struggling to navigate the turn into the parking lot - his attempt failed. Instead, he ran squarely into the driver's side on my car, the flawless side, and punched it right off the tow truck.
Yes, you guessed it - he too was drunk.
A week later, while visiting the Tustin Police Station to manage a few perfunctory legalities, upon hearing that I was in the lobby waiting for my paperwork, more than dozen officers/staff came out to greet me. Why? They all wanted to meet the man whose car was not only shellacked on both sides, and not only by two separate accidents, not only with both being drunk drivers, and not only in the span of a few hours, but also that all this occurred before lunch!
One of the cops told me that he did the research and could not find anything like it in the history of crashdom. They all shook my hand and treated me kindly, but in a curious, circus-like fashion.
Do you want to hear more? Sure you do - this is the nature of train-wrecks and rubber necking. However, this is a blog post, not a biography.
So then, suffice it to say, this little anecdote is emblematic of my life - rather mundane events taking on seemingly grotesque proportions. More to the point, it appears that I have unwittingly mastered the art of Murphy's Law (i.e. the fourth law of thermodynamics): "if anything can go wrong, it will..."
Does this relate to anyone else? I didn't think so...
To wit, regarding my incident this morning, and the motivation for my post, and what was so terribly bizarre, is that something went terribly/wonderfully askew - something completely out-of-the-norm. So much so that I just stood there in utter amazement for what seemed like hours.
Now, before I tell you what it was, I want to warn you that you're going to think I'm off my rocker - I almost guarantee it. I can hear you now: "You invested this much of your time just to write about this! This is last time I'm going to waste my time reading this stupid blog." And you just might be justified for thinking so. Regardless, here it goes.
While groping around in the back of my refrigerator for the orange juice, I forgot that last night I had temporarily placed a small container of teriyaki sauce atop the plastic lid of my Flame Broiler dinner (which was too much to eat and left for today's lunch). If you've 'dined' at Flame Broiler, you know what I'm referring to when I speak of those miniature, transparent containers (aka, Pigmy-pee-cups). They come with matching lids, which take up about 1/8 of the fill space - so if you're not careful when filling up the teriyaki, the sauce will ooze over your hands and the counter. When you reach for a napkin, they're out. And just as you're about to ask the lady behind the counter, she disappears to climb Mount Everest. When she returns, she goes to find more but has a baby along the way. When her now teenager returns with the napkins, you realize you also need water to remove the petrifying teriyaki crust. As you step toward the soda/water dispenser, the line abruptly burgeons, resembling the formation outside the ladies restroom during an intermission for Phantom of the Opera. While finally wetting your napkin, you inadvertently trigger the "Lemonade" clip, splattering your hand, sleeves, belly, belt buckle, zipper, iPhone and shoes. You then return to the spill scene only to discover the lady's teenager's kid (her granddaughter) has already cleaned up your debris and tossed your neatly stacked teriyaki cups. This scenario will repeat itself until your teriyaki-bowl is given to someone else by mistake while you're busy in the bathroom removing the lemonade...
I'm sorry, I said no more personal stories.
Okay, to the point.
I found the O.J., but while pulling it out, the dangling cloth of my guitar patterned robe caught the rippled edge of the teriyaki cup. Splash! All over the floor!! Or so I thought. And it should have. At least, this is what I have grown accustomed to.
However, when I looked down, expecting to see teriyaki spattered pellmell, there rested a lone cup, filled with teriyaki - no mess at all. What was even more peculiar is that in mid-prep for my morning elliptical ride, I had put on my favorite pair of pristine, red Nikes. Yet the lid remained intact, the sticky-staining teriyaki did not etch the travertine, the cupboards were not sprayed, my two freshly bathed Schnoodles survived unscathed, my red shoes were still cherry, and Kari's wedding dress, which is sealed in storage miles from here, was left untouched (don't ask me how her dress would have otherwise been destroyed, but this is my lot, believe me). Simply astounding!
So then, "What's any of this got to do with anything that could possibly be of interest to me?" you ask. Good question. And to be frank, I don't have the foggiest. However, I do know that it would appear that I have inexplicably entered into another realm - a new portal or dimension. So, just in case you dust off a copy of Tron and recognize my face instead of Bruce Boxleitner's, you'll know precisely what has happened to me.
And to be perfectly honest, I don't think I'll mind just one bit.
©Photosical - the photographic and personal observations of Orange County Photographer, Mark Jordan
Mark Jordan Photography specializes in crafting stunning contemporary, traditional, classic, and storytelling family portraits (high school seniors, children portraits, babies, maternity, pregnancy), headshots and pets. Mark Jordan, a Photography Hall of Fame photographer in Rancho Santa Margarita and provides portrait photography throughout Orange County. The portrait studio also serves San Diego County and Inland Empire. Studio Photography Services are also provided in Riverside County and Los Angeles County. Local Cites where photography studio services are offered are in Aliso Viejo, Anaheim, Brea, Costa Mesa, Coto de Caza, Cypress, Dana Point, Dove Canyon, Fountain Valley, Huntington Beach, Irvine, Ladera Ranch, Laguna Beach, Laguna Hills, Laguna Niguel, Laguna Woods, Lake Forest, Mission Viejo, Newport Beach, Northwood, Orange, Orange Park Acres, San Clemente, San Juan Capistrano, Santa Ana, Tustin, Villa Park, Westminster, Yorba Linda, Corona del Mar, Murrieta, Murrieta Hot Springs, Quail Valley, Riverside, Temecula, Winchester, Chino Hills, Fontana, Grand Terrace, Loma Linda, Montclair, Rancho Bernardo, Carlsbad, Coronado, Del Mar, Escondido, La Mesa, Oceanside, San Diego, San Marcos, Solana Beach, Vista, Carmel Mountain Ranch, Rancho San Diego, Rancho Santa Fe, and San Diego Country Estates, Turtle Rock, Shady Canyon. Portrait Photographers everywhere (photographers in O.C. as well) are welcome to contact our portrait studio for mentoring/guidance.