The way I see it, everyone gets a surprise in their life. Whether it is winning the lottery after many failed attempts you've lost count. Opening your door, to be welcomed by all your friends and family, surprising you for your birthday you'd planned to spend alone. Or maybe it's finding out your Grandma left Grandpa for some retired car salesman, breaking your Grandpas fragile heart. My surprise was the year I finished university and the events that occurred in that year.
A half-finished and a crumbling mess of a granola bar situated itself on my lap, as I sat with my compact mirror outstretched in my arm, scowling with frustration at myself in the mirror. Damn tooth paste - all down the front of my blue blazer, thanks to damn Oliva Porter for being a bathroom hog, and subjecting me to brushing my teeth in the kitchen sink. I should not be fussing over a toothpaste stain down the front of my blazer, I should be cramming in study for my final exams, which are next week, yet here I am in the backseat of a cab trying to scratch away this not so terrific stain. I must not sleep in. I must get in the bathroom first. Reciting this mantra several times, I attempt, once more, to scratch away the teeth cleaning substance. I roll my eyes in exasperation and gaze at the pale, off colored blonde-haired girl with brown eyes staring back at me, and give up. My only option is to restrain myself from picking at it and drape my hair over it, and hope that I look semi presentable. Oliva is my roommate, and she has of all days chosen that today is the day she will occupy the bathroom for too long in the morning. Therefore, I am running 35 minutes late for an interview my Grandpa had arranged to go to, but had succumbed to the flu. Leaving me to interview some big shot entrepreneur, whom of which I've never heard of, for the university. I have final exams to cram for and two essays to finish by Monday morning, and I'm supposed to be working this afternoon, but no- today I have to drive 150 miles to downtown Seattle in order to meet the grand CEO of Evergreen enterprises holdings, Inc. as an astonishing entrepreneur and a major benefactor of our university, his oh so precious time is so much more precious than mine- but if my Grandpa trusts me with this than I'll go. A great granddaughter I am.
Grandpa sounds croaky on the phone. "Greer, I'm sorry. It took the university a long time to get this interview. It will take a huge amount of time to reschedule, and we'll both know that you would have graduated by then. As the chancellor of Washington State University, I can't just let this go. Please," Grandpa begs me in his rasping, sore throat voice. How does he do it? Even at his age, he still is putting others first.
"I know how much this means to not only you but the university; I 'm in the cab now. You should get back to bed. I'll pop by after the interview, to check up on you."
"Yes, that would be lovely dear. There are the questions in the notebook I gave to you, and I'm sure you have a tape recorder on that fancy gizmo you call a phone. Be sure to make some small notes, and I'll do the rest."
"I don't even know this man," I murmur, trying and most likely failing to suppress my escalating panic.
"Just follow the questions, and you'll do no wrong. Now off you go, it's a long drive. That leaves you some time to practice the questions."
"Okay, I'll let you go. Get back to bed. I will make you some soup when I come visit." I smile at the thought of my grandpa happily smiling at the home-made soup. Only for you, Grandpa, would I make soup.
"I will. Good luck. And thank you Greer- as usual, you're helping me again."
Saying one last good-bye, I hang up the phone, and pull out the notebook he mentioned. And I make a start on some light reading while on the car ride.
WITH REASONABLY CLEAR ROADS, I set off from Portland, Washington, towards Seattle. It's early, and I have to be in Seattle in an hour. Fortunately, Oliva has paid for my cab as a way to apologies for hogging the bathroom this morning. Well, the cab drive is pleasant, the driver respecting the fact I need silence to read, makes it less of an awkward silence between the driver and I.
