I'm fixing my 1989 Cedric.

While it's apart, I drive to work in my grandmother's car.

She's a senior, she doesn't go anywhere, so the little Chevy is mine for now. A 2014 Sonic. Tiny. I'm a big guy. Picture Mr. Incredible folded into the family hatchback and you've got the idea.

Worked a full shift. 8:30 to 6:30. Walked out to the Sonic and the sky had opened up. Full thunderstorm. And I'd left the windows cracked.

Grandmother's car. Windows down a couple inches. Rain coming in sideways.

Here's the problem. My keys were locked inside the store. My phone was dead. I couldn't just hop in and roll the windows up because I couldn't get in, and I couldn't call anyone to let me back in because I had no phone.

So I ran to the CVS next door.

Now, the smart first move is a phone charger. Call someone. Solve the lockout. That's move one for a reasonable person.

I bought four umbrellas first.

One for each door. Walked back out into the storm, opened all four, and stuffed one into each cracked window so the rain would hit the umbrella instead of grandma's seats. The Sonic sat there in the downpour wearing four umbrellas like a tiny float in a very sad parade.

A little grainy car bristling with umbrellas in the middle of a Florida thunderstorm. I will treasure it forever.

Then I got reasonable. Bought the charger. Juiced the phone enough to make calls.

Called my store manager, Sunny. Then retail services. That guy said I should be fine to come back in real quick, but I needed it cleared with the regional manager first. Messaged the regional. Got the okay. Somebody walked me back through the store, watched me the whole way like I was casing the place, and handed over my keys.

Started the Sonic. Pulled the umbrellas. Drove home in the rain.

The inside was soaked. I couldn't wipe it down because it was still pouring when I got home and it never let up. Grandma's seats, damp. Grandma, unaware.

I did not tell her.

The next day I was out working on the Cedric and it started raining out of nowhere. A lady across the street was running to get out of it. I had three umbrellas I no longer needed. I walked one over and handed it to her. One down. Skedaddled back to the car.

Three umbrellas left, a wet Chevy, a secret from my grandmother, and a Cedric still in pieces.

And it was a good day.