Breaking the Ice and Busting Knuckles

I suddenly recalled this incident a couple of weeks ago while having dinner with friends. While not having thought of it in ages, it came to mind so splendidly vivid that I could hardly tell the story through my own fits of laughter. If ever a scene from my life could be compared to an I Love Lucy moment, this is it. I thought I would share it with you because as Mr. Bennet says in Pride and Prejudice, "For what do we live, but to make sport for our neighbours, and laugh at them in our turn?" Here is a bit of "sport" for you.

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In college I spent two and a half years as part of a musical theater troupe who gave our breaks and a month of our summers to touring around the country doing shows in community and schools. We traveled from Illinois and Iowa to California and Washington State, and met a lot of great people along the way. Wherever we landed strangers took us in overnight. It was arranged through the local music teacher or the arts council, so it's not as odd as it sounds, but sort of. Being paired with at least one other member of the troupe assured that we were never alone, but it's a lot of strange beds to sleep in nonetheless.

In Park City, Utah we stayed in the most beautiful mansion I've ever seen. I loved their elevator. And somewhere in Oregon I spent half the night trying to hug the edge of our fold out couch because it sank so badly to the middle. The other half of the night I just gave in and cuddled with my roommate. One family in Colorado took us cross country skiing, and I still use a recipe for a Swiss cheese vegetable medley I got from a woman in Nevada to this day. After the ice was broken, it was usually a treat to get to know a new family and gain a glimpse into their lives.

But there was always that strange moment when we first met our new hosts. They weren't sure what they were in for and frankly neither did we. In Boise, Idaho it was a little like that. When my roommate and I were called, we met an older couple whom I'm sure were doing somebody a favor. They were a little stiff and unsure about how to relate to a couple of 20 year old singer/dancers. Luckily we were a gregarious group who had a couple of things hammered into us:
1. We were always, ALWAYS representing our university and state.
2. We were always, ALWAYS to be on our best behaviour.
So we learned to be easy at making conversation.

"Hi. It's so nice to meet you. Thank you for inviting us to stay with you."

They led us outside to a big American boat of a car. A Cadillac or Chrysler, something really nice with a lot of buttons that my grandmother would never let me push as a kid. Once we got our bags in the trunk we began the long ride to their house. It began a bit too quietly for my taste, and, as I usually did in the first few minutes, I came to a quick judgement about our stay. This one might be a bit tough.

I wasn't so sure they were all that thrilled with hosting us. But as was my MO I was determined to win them over. I began by bulleting them with questions about themselves. "How long have you lived here? What do you do? Do you have any kids? How many? Where do they live now? Grand kids? Where did you two meet? How long have you been married?" I could keep this up all day, and I pretty much did, chit chatting away until we pulled up in their drive. I was surprised though. I still hadn't shattered their reserve. Not yet, anyway.

"Well, here we are."
"Oh, what a lovely home."
"Thank you."

The husband helped remove our bags from the trunk and led the way into the house. I was the last, maybe I hadn't yet learned how to pack light, but, regardless, by the time I prepared to shut the trunk they were all in the house. I gave the trunk a hearty slam, but it didn't close properly, so I reached my fingers under to lift it again when it automatically tightened to lock position. It all happened so fastthat I didn't have time to get my digits out of the way. I had no idea that cars were equipped with such a thing. I gave a little tug. Certainly this couldn't really be happening, but there I was. All eight fingers caught tight in the trunk of a stranger's car.

While there was some pain involved, it wasn't so bad that I thought serious damage was occurring. Mostly I considered my options at the moment. There weren't many. I literally could not maneuver free. I looked down the road on either side. No traffic, gratefully, but without being able to fully turn around I feared that their neighbor was watching from their front room window. This couple seemed concerned about keeping up appearances and I wasn't going to help in that department. "Maybe if I just pull a little harder..."no. There was no way I was going anywhere.

"At some point they are going to wonder where I am. And when they come out here...Can you imagine how dumb this is going to look?" I could just imagine their perspective. How exactly does one slam both of their own hands in the trunk and lock them there? This was not going to make a great first impression, but there was no way around it; I was just going to have to wade through.

"If I could just get my roommate's attention, maybe she could manage to get the keys without drawing too much attention." The door had been left open, but my voice was going to have to travel quite a ways. Judging the necessary volume but trying to keep my voice light and bright without any hint of ugency I began to yell, "Marlo? Marlo? Marrrrlllooo?" It took a couple of minutes, but she eventually emerged from the house.

"What?"

"Uh, could you come here for a second?" As she came closer I continued, "Um, I kinda' got my hands stuck in the--"

"Oh, my--" She turned and ran into the house, and the next thing I knew they were all out there and Mr. Husband as fumbling with his keys in a hurry to unlock me while Mrs. Wife was nervously asking, "My goodness! What happened? Honey, hurry!"

And I was determined to preserve some dignity. "Oh, no! It really doesn't hurt. I'm fine!" As if this sort of thing happened all the time.

The trunk popped open revealing a long red indentation across the knuckles of both hands.

"Oh, good gracious! Are you alright? Maybe we'd better get some ice on that."

"Oh, no! It's not that bad. Really. I'm fine." With all the ease I could muster, I grabbed my bags and with my head held high walked toward their house.

Let's just consider the ice broken, shall we?