Praying In The Parking Lot

My cell phone alarm is blaring.

Oh, shoot, it's already 8 a.m. I realize as I reach from under the sheet to push END on the phone.

It's the day after St. Patrick's Day, but I didn't have any green beer or my favorite Irish drink, an apple martini.

I hug my pillow, but it's not saying, "Kiss Me, I'm Irish," so I force myself to let the pillow and mattress go.

As I turn on the water for my shower, I'm thinking of what I can wear. It has to be something quick. And then Carmen (my dog) is giving me a look that says, "Come on mom, I gotta pee."

I jump in the shower and out. I'm feeling refreshed on my 6 hours of sleep.

"Come on," I say to Carm as I grab my robe and rush down the stairs to let her out to take care of her business.

Before long, Carm is back in the house and I'm standing in front of the mirror, pulling my hair back into my supa bad hair day hairstyle -- a curly ponytail.

Deodorant on. Lotion on. Now, it's time for those gray slacks and a white shirt. Yep, that's easy.

Not bad, I compliment myself as I glance over at the clock and it shouts, "Time to go" because it's 8:30.

OK, OK, OK.

Carm gets her treat. I grab my purse and keys and say, "Be good big girl."

I have to stop at the bank so I call my supervisor and tell her I'll be a few minutes late. The bank doesn't open until 9 a.m., but the bank is right around the corner from my workplace.

8:57 my car clock reads. "Great! Great!" I say pulling into the parking space. I lunge from my car and race like a track star to the door.

I pull on the handle but it's locked. I'm a few minutes early so "slow your roll, missy," I tell myself.

While parking, I didn't realize that there were three other vehicles in the bank's parking lot.

Within seconds, people emerge from their vehicles and join me at the bank's door.

"You are a few minutes, early," one guy says.

"Yea, we've ALLLLL been waiting for them to open," another guy says.

I want to ask him is he telling me that I jumped the line, but I say to myself nah, D, forget it. I need to get in this bank and get this done.

"A pretty woman and you smell good," the first guy begins talking again.

"Thanks," I respond.

"And you got pretty feet, too," he adds.

"Thanks," I say again, and then glance down at my feet and think this is a paint-over-pedi job. You know, when you use polish over your last pedicure to hold you over.

"I would like to have your business card," the man says.

"Sure," I say quickly.

I often need sources in my line of work. He told me he works at a nearby doctor's office, so hey, he may be a good source one day.

Before I know it, I'm in the bank and then dashing back to my car.

"Are you gonna give me your card?"

"Oh, oh, you can e-mail me at" ... he cuts me off and says, "Write it down."

He hands me a folded check, yes, a check and I write it down.

"Thanks!" he says and then, "Let's pray!"

"Huh?"

OK, before I know it I'm standing with a stranger in a bank's parking lot and we are praying. Well really, he's praying. I'm on guard even though he is a seemingly nice man.

His eyes are closed. His head is bowed. Oh, he's praying for real.

I hear a little of what he's saying. It was something like, "Protect this beautiful woman as she goes about her day."

But then I find myself looking at his teeth.

"Good googly moogly what happen to your toothies?" I think. They remind me of yellow crime scene tape. They were tartar-filled and jiggy jaggy.

The prayer is soon over.

"Amen."

"Amen."

"Have a nice day," he says.

I'm in my car and yep, the doors are locked. He seemed nice but my mother always told me everything that glitters ain't gold, so he may be a nut.

While driving I begin to feel a little bad because I made fun of his teeth. Well, I didn't say anything to him, but I thought it. And for people who are striving to be good Christians, thinking it is just as bad.

"Dag, Darlene," I say aloud.

Because of the onslaught of guilt I feel I begin praying while riding to work.

"Forgive me, Lord, please. Lord, I know I said I wanted a praying man but whew, I need to modify my request because I really know you are listening. I want him to pray but I want some other qualities, too. I want him to be smart, witty, considerate, ambitious, handsome, kind, loving, adventurous, funny, family-oriented, financially stable, and have an average build and one kid, if any. I also want him to adore me. And ummmm while I have your attention, Lord, can he please have nice teeth?"