On Sunday morning I got up very early to help Laura raise money for ovarian cancer. Afterwards we walked to my car in the parking garage, only to find someone had hit it, leaving a nasty scrape along the back bumper.
“Oh, Pam. That’s…”
“Someone hit my car.”
“Looks like I’m buying breakfast. Hey, look! There’s a note!”
Nope. On my windshield were seven ads for other upcoming races in the area. Not one note from someone who hit my car.
“You know what’s crazy?” I asked. “Someone parked, ran a race for cancer, then hit my car and drove away.”
“That’s really bad karma,” Laura said. “That guy’s totally getting cancer.”
(Best joke of the race went to Laura’s friend, who admitted once we were finished: “Well, I’m glad that’s over-y.” wheee! too many comedy writers + seriousness = going to hell) Continue reading →