The Captain and I had been in the car for about 40 minutes already (read: 12 miles of winding canyon roads through the hills of Los Angeles) and we were just minutes away from LAX when I decided to check the weather in Stockholm.
“Look,” I said. “It’s snow flurries!! I am so excited OH WAIT OH MY GOD NOOOOOOO I FORGOT MY COAT.”
“What?” He said. His expression was incredulity mixed with terror.
You see, I bought this coat special for this trip. I have been so excited about this dumb coat. I got it online in some shopper-died-and-went-to-heaven sale at Macy’s plus I had a coupon plus I had a promo code and did I mention it is furry and deep purple and has a fuzzy hood? It’s like wearing a muppet. It’s insanely cute. I have talked about how happy I am to wear my purple Fozzy Bear coat for two weeks straight. We don’t get to wear coats in Los Angeles. Coat weather is a thing we dream about.
And that coat of dreams is hanging up in the hall closet at home, which at rushtime in Los Angeles might as well be located in Utah.
The Captain handled the whole thing really well (“the whole thing” was me going into one of those silent spirals where you can’t decide if you are angry, about to cry, or just being a dumbass.) Anyway, we made it to the airport and he promptly got me into the lounge and had a fruity vodka drink in my hand in no time flat. I believe we have agreed to never speak of this again.
I packed a thin zipper jacket in my bag but if I die from frostbite in the wild tundra of Sweden someone please go to my house and get that furry jacket. It is too cute to never see anything but the inside of the hall closet.
