The AAA mooch

If you count Friday evenings, weekends offer a good 60 hours free from human interaction. I like to use this time wisely. That's why I didn't take my friend Melissa's call as I saw her name pop up on my cell phone display Saturday afternoon.

True to aloof form, I would never have gotten back to her until later this week had the novelty of her call worn off sooner. Melissa never calls me on the weekend. Later that afternoon, as I searched the local CD store for Jeff Beck's 1975 masterpiece, "Blow By Blow," my curiosity gave way to investigation. I relented and called Melissa back.

"What's up?" I asked.

"Oh, yeah...ha ha ha!" she replied, mischievously. "I locked myself out of my car earlier."

"Ha, ha, ha. Loser!" I said.

"Yeah, I know. Anyway, Danielle wasn't home. I was desperate to get into my car, and you were the next person I thought of."

"Nice," I replied with a trademarked sarcasm.

"I was trying to see if there was some way I could use your AAA card to call them up," she strained to explain herself. "Then you didn't answer, but I was able to figure something else out."

"You're a friggin' AAA mooch!" You see, I have AAA. Melissa does not. A pause preceded her reply as she pondered what I had just said.

"Oh yeah, now I get it," she responded. "That's funny!" Her amusement was genuine.

We traded some small talk and then hung up. I spotted the likeness of a frail '70s guitar god dressed in bell bottoms. Jeff Beck's image was adorning the cover of a CD jewel case propped up on the rack. The title read: Blow By Blow. I grabbed the last used copy, sprinted for the cashier, paid the $7, and drove home.