MY FIRST CANNOLI

There’s a little place by my house named Henri’s Bakery. I’ve passed it a few times before, and each time made a mental note to check it out. Yesterday I was wandering around the neighborhood looking for a place to eat dinner, and I thought I’d peek inside…check out the croissants or something. Given the fact that this place was nestled in the heart of an ugly old strip mall I should’ve known better than to expect that the pastries would be good—much less authentic. I miss the cuisine in France so much that I couldn’t help but hope! Ah, naivety. (That’s French, too.)
Once inside, I was greeted unenthusiastically by a short lady who was either Romanian or Mayan…or both. Her accent was equally as unidentifiable as her parentage, and the displays were about as unimpressive as the customer service. I’d bet two baklava that not a single item on the shelves was fresher than 36 hours. So, after pacing up and down the long, empty counter I settled on a cannoli.

EXIT BAKERY

Now I was really excited to find someplace worthwhile to eat…the sight of any bakery at 6pm is disheartening. Even in Paris, everything’s been picked bare by late afternoon and only random pieces of Flan and burnt raisin bread and crusty baguettes are left over. Henri’s was especially disappointing. Note to self: never come back.
So I’m juggling a bakery bag and my purse and my keys to unlock the car with a remote, and oh joy, it won’t unlock. This has happened a few times before. Usually it just takes a few more insistent jabs and the locks fly up with a really loud BEEPBEEP. Not this time. I set everything down and just pushed the remote over and over again. Open. Open. Open. Come on. Open. Are you kidding me? I was suspicious before that I drive the Swedish version of the Love Bug, but this just proves it. How can a vehicle be fickle? It’s just bolts and metal and oil. Nope, my car has a soul. I’m sure of it. He also has a sick, sick sense of humor.
I can actually unlock my car manually, but that won’t turn off the alarm. When I had this problem before I just used my keys to unlock the door; the alarm would go off, but it never lasted long. The remote would finally work and BLIPBLIP, it’s all good.
As soon as I opened the door the alarm went off just like I knew it would. Be casual, don’t look guilty. This IS my car. I kinda hunched over in the driver’s seat…after a few angry gestures. Fortunately, I had my mechanic’s number in my cell phone. He told me to try unlocking from the passenger’s door or the trunk, but nothing worked. You’d think that by putting the key in the ignition that the alarm would silence, but noooo. The engine locks! All the while I’m punching the unlock button on my little remote. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. I call each of my roommates. No answer. No answer. No answer. Finally Lina calls me back and comes with a screwdriver so we can open the remote and put in a new battery. Lina really did a number on that remote. It’s all scratched up in the back, like a cat was playing with it or something. After a few minutes I asked for it back before it was shred to bits.
Maybe it just takes a little finesse, not so much metal and hardware. I squeezed the remote to open the battery compartment and saw a little green light. No way. I absentmindedly pushed the unlock button. BEEPBEEP. That’s it?! It’s all over? After 45 minutes of ear splitting alarms and flashing lights and inconvenience I just give the remote a little squeeze and the alarm turns off! I guess any rational person would be elated, but I was pissed. Was all that drama really necessary? I mean, I didn’t learn any life lessons. I didn’t have to change a battery or flip a switch, the problem just solved itself.

The problem just solved itself.

That cannoli wasn’t any good.