A Simple Errand...Is Not So Simple After All

Today after school we wanted to pick up the painting that we were getting framed. The frame shop is not too far from school, and it's right along the bus route. This was our simple plan: Brian would get a ride to the frame shop to pay for the frame. I would ride the school bus at 4:00. The bus driver would stop, Brian would hand me the framed picture, and I would take it home. Brian would then head over to the allergist. It all seemed so simple.

Brian arrived at the frame shop, but the framing wasn't done yet. He hurried the people along, all the while watching out the door for the school bus. Brian waved to me from the frame shop, the bus stopped, but Brian didn't come out to give me the frame. I'm on a bus with a bunch of tired, hot teachers who are eager to get home. So when Brian still doesn't come running out with the frame, I get off the bus, letting the driver know that he can head on his way. I figure that I'll just take a taxi home with the picture. Once I get into the frame shop, I notice that the entire shop is empty. The lady finally comes running from a back area, carrying the newly framed painting just as the bus pulls away.

We decide that it will be most cost effective for me to take a concho home instead of a taxi. A concho is a car that runs a route, somewhat like a bus route. For just 13 pesos you can get in the concho and then you just call out when you want him to stop and let you out. If you pay double the price, you can get the front passenger seat all to yourself rather than squeezing two people in the single bucket seat. I could pay double, and sit up front with the painting on my lap. However, all the conchos that pass by are full. Finally one drives up that has one passenger in the front but the whole back seat is empty. This seems promising. I can't pay double to ride alone in the front seat, but I figure it won't get too crowded in the back seat. We head off down the road and pull over in about a block to pick up two soldiers. One squeezes up front with the other passenger while the other one joins me in the back seat. This is still very workable. We start down the road again, but get hailed by two women needing a ride. The soldier slides over next to me and the two women squeeze into the tiny back seat with us. I am now holding the painting in front of me, trying not to rest it on the soldier's leg, when I realize that I can't see where we are because the painting is blocking my view. I keep peering out the left passenger window, but I don't really recognize things on that side of the road. I continue to try to balance the painting but my arms are starting to get tired. I finally give up and let the one corner of the painting drop down onto the soldier's leg. We continue to drive down the road in the hot, crowded car. As I try to peer for landmarks from behind the painting, I spot the grocery store where I want to be let off. We've zipped past it by the time I yell out, "Esta aqui!" That translates to "It's here!" Even though it wasn't exactly what I meant to say, everyone seemed to understand. The driver pulled over, the two women and the soldier climbed out of the back seat, and the soldier took the painting so that I could get out.

I'm rather hot and sweaty, but I'm relieved to be out of the concho with the painting intact. I now begin to walk home from the grocery store area. Dogs bark, people stare, and the sun beats down on me, but I finally arrive home with the painting. It seemed like such a simple errand...