The AAA mooch

Friday evenings included, weekends offer a good 60 hours free from human interaction. I like to use this time wisely. It is why I didn't take my friend Melissa's call as I saw her name pop up on my cell phone display one Saturday afternoon many moons ago.

As I searched the local CD store for Jeff Beck's 1975 masterpiece, "Blow By Blow," the rarity of her call festered and nagged. Melissa never calls me on the weekend. What does she want?

I would never have gotten back to her until later that week had the novelty of her call worn off sooner, but, later that afternoon, my curiosity gave way to investigation. I relented and called her back.

"What's up?" I asked.

"Oh, yeah..." she replied. She giggled. "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. The opportunity to tease Melissa was ripe.

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

"You're a friggin' AAA mooch!"

A pause preceded her reply as she pondered what I had just said.

"Oh yeah, I get it…" she responded. "That's funny!"

We traded small talk before ending our call. I spotted the likeness of a frail '70s guitar god dressed in bellbottoms. Jeff Beck's image graced the cover of a CD jewel case 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.