Why did the P.E. Teacher Cross the Road?

It happened again. The folks at the VW dealership think I’m a P.E. teacher. And this VW dealership is about 800 miles away from the last one.

So I took my car in yesterday right after teaching a spin class. I was sweaty, stinky and red-faced. While the service peeps didn’t actually accuse me of being a P.E. teacher, I know what they were thinking: “Oh, look at her. Must have been an especially rough day of dodge ball. And now, here it is, 10am and she’s able to hang out here for three hours.”

But I didn’t hang out there. I walked down this major road to a Starbucks. And once I tired of their free latte samples I crossed the busy road again to go to Wendy’s. Even after consuming several items from their $1 menu I still had 52 minutes to kill. So I wandered back up the busy road and pretended to be interested in buying a VW just so a salesperson would show me around and I could kill time.

My point is that yesterday, I went up and down that street a lot.

Then today my door wouldn’t shut all the way. And my car kinda sounded like a helicopter. And what was that odor? Oh, that was from me, not showering until four hours after spin class.

So I took it back. And this time I had taught a longer spin class so I was even sweatier. And I was wearing my spin shorts—not okay for outside the YMCA. Again, they looked at me with P.E. teacher envy. Hey, I know it’s the coolest job but unfortunately, it’s not mine.

They told me it would be another two hours. As I wandered back down the busy road (during rush hour this time), I considered my options. I was really hungry but the only place open was the Waffle House. Sounded greasy. So I decided that I would walk home (what could it be, four miles?), eat my Kashi and then ride my bike back to the dealership. Then I could eat what I wanted AND I could kill the two hours.

But then I thought, “Do I really want to walk under one of the busiest highways in Atlanta during rush hour?” And then, more importantly, I thought, “How will I get my bike back home? It doesn’t fit in my car.”

To the Waffle House!

The greasy diner actually had an egg white option so I ordered two eggs which came with hashbrowns and two pieces of toast and jelly. This was only about $3.00. The Waffle House rocks! So just as I was getting comfortable in my booth amidst all the truckers and retirees, the VW dudes call. The part I need isn’t in. They can’t work on my car today.

But I already wandered down the busy road and more importantly, I already ordered my Waffle House meal and Portia was just about to bring it over. So I stayed, read the paper and chowed down on my egg whites. You know what’s good? Taking bread, spreading on some catsup, then putting hash browns and egg whites on top. Yum.

So as I wandered back up to the VW dealership (yes, “up.” They have hills here!), I wondered if anybody on the road recognized me from my earlier trip. Or from the day before. Or earlier the day before. That’s when I thought that they must be thinking, “Hey, why is that P.E. teacher wandering down this busy road?” And I started giggling uncontrollably. Right there on the busy road. Wearing my spin shorts. I love pretending to be a P.E. teacher. It’s my favorite game. And I love the Waffle House. But I don’t love the way my car smells.

Oh, and I guess that brings me to the answer to my original question: To get to the Waffle House, duh!