I’m in a foul mood.
Which means I should probably write a foul mood scene for my next Noah Greene novel, the working title of which is “Close to Death.”
The reason for m foul moodness?
Just came out of the grocery store to fine the side of my car with a long scrape down to the metal. Someone decided, what the heck, I’ll just bang my car door into his car door.
I know. It’s happened to all of us. But here’s the thing, and I’m telling the truth here. I’ve NEVER done it to someone else. Never. Not once.
I’ve had five back surgeries — if you have a bad back and a surgeon says “Hey, let’s operate!” don’t; 80% of people with one back surgery have a second and 50% of those have a third — and I will contort myself into a pretzel not to have my car door touch another car door.
Plus, I’m old and feeble. If I can get out of my automobile without banging someone else’s automobile, anybody can. (Wait, my wife says I shouldn’t admit to being old and feeble. “Old yes, but you’re still able enough to do the laundry.”)
Cars are expensive and for some of us, we love them like our children. In some cases more. Now I’m not saying that I love my BMW convertible more than my son, but … it’s close.
So, after off loading the groceries, I’m headed back to the parking lot to see if I can find the culprit and … wait, my wife is telling me I can’t do that. “Laundry, remember?”
Okay, but when “Close to Death” is published and if you buy it, you just might find a scene where Noah is asked to solve the murder of a serial door banger and he refuses. On general principle.