This Is Why I Have to Be a Good Girl

I don't steal. I don't cheat. I don't lie (well, except for the occasional white lie, but, of course, that doesn't count!). I don't kill or physically harm people or animals. Aside from boring morals or the fear of God's wrath, do you know what keeps me in line?

Having the knowledge that I have the most frickin' bad luck and would get caught the mere second I even thought about doing any of the above.

Let me share a little story with you to illustrate my point.

This morning, running late to work as usual, I pulled into the parking lot and noticed a parking space much closer than I'm usually able to get. Being a Monday morning, finding a good parking spot is very odd, for that's a good thing and only bad things seem to happen on Mondays. But, I was grouchy, tired, and late for work, so I found an ounce of joy in this tiny Monday miracle. Alas, whenever anything good happens, it seems to be accompanied by something bad. I unlatched my car door - didn't even get a chance to start pushing it open - and the wind managed to yank my door open into the adjacent car. Son of a motherf**king bitch.

I've got tons of tiny dents and scratches in my car doors from careless people, and it really pisses me off when people aren't more careful about such small tasks as getting in and out of their cars. Although this was the wind's doing, I still felt very upset that I've just managed to do something I hate so much. So, I examined the car, and it appeared I'd just left some markings. *Whew* I got a napkin and wiped off 98% of the markings. There were a couple of tiny spots left, but feeling odd about polishing someone else's car in the parking lot, and the fact I was LATE FOR WORK, convinced me it was time to go up to the office.

I thought I should leave a note, because even though it was minor, I know how my luck is. I've just never been able to get away with the tiniest thing.

For instance, in sixth grade I drew XXX pictures of stick figures engaging in adult relations and stuffed them way up under my bed. Who should happen to find said "art" while cleaning my bedroom soon after? My mother. Of course, I lied and blamed it on my best friend at the time, but my mom didn't buy it. She just gave me a smirk and said, uh huh, I'm sure that was Holly's masterpiece. There was no punishment at the time that I recall, but it's been 16 years later and I'm still teased by my mother over it. I think I've suffered more than my fair share of penance. Then, my junior year of high school, my best friend at that time convinced me it would be a very wise idea to make prank phone calls to the boy I had an enormous crush on. My friend made a couple of calls to his house and hung up the phone upon our victim's answering. This was before caller id, but was during the technological boom of *69. The boy's mother called us back, and my friend proceeded to hang up the phone. Another call, and she disguised her voice (rather poorly) and informed said mother to quit calling this number. Wouldn't you know it? Said mother became very irritated and called the police on us, who showed up at MY house because we had been calling from MY phone.

I am completely aware that these are extremely retarded and trivial examples "bad things," but this is exactly my point. I was never caught doing drugs, because I never did drugs. I was never caught sneaking out of the house, because I never snuck out of the house. I was never caught lying to my mom that I was going over to Michelle's to study while instead going to a wild party, because I never told such lies and never went to wild parties. I was never caught having sex, because I never had sex until I went away to college, and even still that was only with the man I would later marry. Oh, but I do thank myself for the reminder of the time that Stephen and I were caught making out in the backseat of his car in my mother's driveway our senior year of high school. The neighbors came over and tapped on our window, apparently thinking from a distance someone was breaking into his car. They were very apologetic when they saw what was really going on. Yeah, of course I was pretty much topless, if I remember correctly, and I'm trying my hardest not to. Oh yeah, and now I'm remembering the time soon after we began sleeping with each other that Stephen's mother & sister found certain items that were clear indicators of us having "relations" in the back of the van...very disgusting and very mortifying, might I add. (My most sincere apologies still go out to Maryann and Angela, for not only having to witness such horrible things, but also for bringing up an instance that I'm sure you've tried your hardest to BLOCK!) Anyway, point being: I never did anything really bad because I couldn't even get away with doing the most minor of bad things. The first time I drank in college? I called my mom the next day and told her all about it. I figured I'd better 'fess up, because I know my luck and with such luck, she would surely find out. The two times in my drunken stupors I allowed boys to kiss me while I was dating Stephen? I immediately informed him of my infidelities because, aside from feeling guilty and wanting to be honest with him, I just knew someone else would tattle on me if I didn't tattle on myself.

Anyway, back to today, the fact that I didn't have a pen or paper prohibited me from leaving a note. I went upstairs and got distracted doing usual Monday morning busywork, but went down to my car at lunch to leave a note, as I'd been worried about it all morning. The car? It was gone. Finally, I felt at ease and thought, although completely accidental and beyond my control and entirely minor, I finally got away with something.

Stupid me.

I got in my car this afternoon to leave work and noticed an envelope tucked under my windshield wipers. Can you believe this:

"Hello, I was looking out our office window this morning and saw the door on your white car hit my gray Toyota Matrix. By the time I got down to check you had already come in the building. It appears you have rubbed the spot trying to remove the mark you left. Apparently the wind caught your car door and it hit my rear drivers side car door and left a mark. I will try to rub this out but I would appreciate it if you contacted me with your information in the event I can't remove the mark and have to take it to a body shop."

I was frickin' caught in the act. Son of a motherf**king bitch.

Like, seriously, how many dents and scratches have people put into my car? A ton. How many times have I caught this happening? None. I am so damn careful when opening my car door that this NEVER has happened to me. The one time it does? And after trying to be polite by wiping off my car's residue (because I can tell you from experience that usually when people ram into your doors, they don't wipe off the crap it leaves behind)? And after having full intentions of leaving a note? It doesn't matter. She beat me to the punch, and now I feel like I've been caught in a hit and run. Though I didn't run. My car remained parked in the same spot all day. Maybe that was my mistake?

I replied with a very, very nice e-mail to the person explaining what had happened. And because I was nice and accepted responsibility for my actions? I just know this person will probably repay me by being a vengeful bitch. And you can guarantee I will post an update if this happens.

What's almost worse than my bad luck is how creepy it is that this person just happened to be looking out of her office window at the exact moment this occurred. I always feel like somebody's watching me...Rockwell, you really speak to my heart, buddy.