Wednesday, June 11, 2014

A fairytale in the making

Who believes in fairytales?

Let me share a story with you . . .

I got a flat tyre over the long weekend and had no idea what to do. Normally my Dad would be able to fix it or now that I'm in Melbourne, I'd call on my housemate to help a sister out. But he's in Bali and my Dad's in the Rads and the hours of daylight are limited after work.

I don't normally need a car during the week as I can easily walk to work and the train station is at the end of my street, but I've just been invited to a fan-say ladies lunch on Thursday and needed the car for the occasion. I wasn't going to turn up with a sweaty brow and smelly pits at this shindig. No siree.

So, I youtubed 'how to change a flat tyre' yesterday and felt empowered to get my strong on.

The light was fading by the time I got home so I turned on my hazards and got to work emptying the contents of my boot. 

I had everything laid out neatly when a dashing young man stopped at his front gate on the way home from work and asked if I was okay . . . did I need any help?

Fiercely proud, determined and independent, I started with 'Oh thank you so much, but I'm going to give it a crack. I've never done it before, but I've googled it and should be fine . . . '

Then I faltered . . . 'Is it hard? Will I be okay? Surely I can do it on my own? Or not? I'll let you know if I need any help . . .'

And I caved 'Well, if you'd like to help, I'd love you to. Only if you want to though, are you sure? Thank you so much.'

He dumped his stuff and came to the rescue. Did I mention he was very good looking?

I kind of stood there helpless, holding my iPhone torch as close to the tyre without getting in the way (I was totally in the way). It was all very hot and sweaty work, he was down lying on his chest, pumping the jack, cranking the L shaped thing. So heroic.

We chatted about work, how I'd been living just two doors down for about a year - he, only a month. Just small talk.

Then we struck a stumbling block when one of the nuts on the tyre was different to the other three - it happened on all four tyres. Turned out the L shaped thing needed a special attachment at the end to fit that special nut. I found it in the boot, phew. Saved the day, I think he was impressed. (Do you like how I turned that around to be being the hero?!)

Anyway, I was able to flex my muscles and lift the new tyre into place - not without a struggle, I might add. I was very appreciative and at this stage, quite dirty (why couldn't I have washed my hair that morning? Or worn my super sucker-in-erer leggings instead of my really-thin-shows-all-the-bumps ones?).

I thanked him for his efforts and said he knew where to find me if ever he needed a cup of sugar. 

And we both went on with our lives.

Only once I was back inside my house did I remember a joke I'd had with my housemate earlier that day. She offered to try and get home early to help with the tyre, I said don't worry, I'm determined to do it on my on and who knows . . . I might meet my future husband!

So I rang a friend to work out what to do next. He wasn't wearing a ring, he was dressed very well and ever so handsome. And what lovely manners! Worth a crack!?

I rushed down to BWS to buy a bottle of Pepperjack Shiraz and turned to my present box (everyone's got one of those, don't they?) in my wardrobe to find a notecard to attach - in case he wasn't home. 

And look what I found in my Vanity Fair collection. Is this the most perfect card, ever!?

I taped the card (signed 'Cheers, Kate from #41') to the bottle and headed down the street to say thanks. (Props to Alice for not letting me change my outfit, wash my hair or apply lipstick. That would've been OTT. Good move).

I knocked, but no answer. I think I heard the shower going.

So I left it on the doorstep - out of the way, but hopefully visible next time he walks through the door.

The rest, my friends, is now in the hands of the Gods!

So we wait.

My housemate walked past this morning and said the bottle was gone. My guess is it's either been stolen, or his gorgeous, successful, perfect girlfriend has picked it up and used it in a beef bourgignon without telling him.

Regardless, it was a nice thing to do. Good manners never go out of fashion. That's what Tina told me anyway.

So there's a little bit of excitement for your average Tuesday night! If he gets in touch, I'll let you know. You will all be invited to the wedding!


Nanette said...

I loved this cute story, you are right, presents boxes and good manners are essential. Fingers crossed he is baking on the weekend and needs to borrow sugar ��

Lill said...

I'm not sure which part of this excellent story I am most impressed with. I think it is the fact that you were actually going to try that on your own. Props, KLE. x