the turtle and the hair

okay, so truth be told, i’m not the most patient woman on the planet. one could even categorize me as wholly impatient. my mother was impatient. my mom was the kind of woman who wanted it now. as in right now. this minute. she had absolutely no patience whatsoever for anyone who told her to be patient. i believe the first time i ever heard my mother say the word “fuck” was when a friend of hers told her to hold her horses, and maybe she even said “fuck you right now.”

i’m driving to my friends house.
as most of you know, i live in what would be considered rural. back roads. dirt roads. narrow roads. not all but some. i’m on a narrow dirt road. the kind of road that is not really meant for two cars, or two lanes. but two cars none the less manage. i am on the road alone, and all of a sudden up ahead, through the windshield, i see something big and strange and weird crawling across the road. i’m praying & hoping it isn’t a small man or person for that matter. and as i get closer, i see it’s a big fucking turtle. huge. massive. like the size of a sports car. i kid you not. and there is no way that i can drive and not run the turtle over. I would NOT miss this turtle. so, i stop.
i decide to let the turtle cross the road.
this is my very first experience with a turtle crossing a road.
after about thirty-seconds or so, i decide it’s best to put the car in park.
i wait.
i watch.
the turtle stops.
it looks like it’s stopping and pooping. no, no poop. or maybe there is poop but i can’t tell and i’m not going to get out of my car.
i start to glaze over.
the turtle now reminds me of ken when ken goes on & on & on when all i needed was a yes or a no. i glaze over.
the turtle continues walking. shuffling. crawling.
i find some hair gel in the glove compartment and i start gooing my hair, shaping, pasting, fluffing, sculpting. straight up. i now look like don king.
uh oh. i have a cramp in my left leg. i shift around, i squirm. i shake my foot. oh god.
oh, fuck you turtle, fuck you.
i put on the radio.
bad news. more oil spill stuff.
i want to scream.
i shut off the radio.
the turtle hits a small bump and it looks like it’s going to tip over.
what if it tips over and dies?
then what?


back on it’s feet.
oh thank goodness.
big, huge and … resilient.
this is one resilient turtle.
it looks like it has a bit more pep.
i’m rooting for it now.
come on come on come on come on move it move it move it NOW NOW NOW NOW. NOW.
not another car coming or going.
it’s just me & the turtle.
i’m rooting for the turtle.
finally. finally. finally … it makes it to the other side.

and as i drove away, i wondered what the turtle thought about me.
no doubt waiting, waiting, waiting … waiting…
for me to get to the other side.

Category: Uncategorized 5 comments »

5 Responses to “the turtle and the hair”

  1. Jane

    You made me laugh, Amy. Thanks!

  2. PamelaJo

    Yep, been there. I live in the country too. What I hate is trying to get somewhere and you get caught in a country traffic jam. That’s when you get caught behind the tractor as the farmer changes fields. Those things at top speed only go 20 mph, I know we have one.

  3. kristine

    brilliant!. Have you seen the old cartoon with two buzzards sitting in a tree and the one buzzards says to the other on…”patience HELL, Im going to kill something.” Bravo for the turtle, bravo for you

  4. Madge Woods

    Patience something I am getting much better at age 61 than ever before. Thanks for this wonderful story. I waited patiently as you told it. 🙂

  5. Hollye Dexter

    hee hee hee hee…i love it.
    the world needs more turtle stories right now.

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