As I waited at a four-way stop, a woman in a white Chevy Malibu motioned for me to roll down my window.
Do I have a flat?
“F**k YOU.” The Chevy Malibu woman said with both hands gripping her steering wheel. She had the most amazing hair. Half pink half silver.
The light turned green.
The Chevy Malibu woman leaned across to the passenger side and flipped me the bird. She sped off on a hard right and rode away.
I get flipped off all the time while driving. I switched to William’s car which is decorated with Military Veteran stickers—thinking my fellow drivers would go easier on me. After all, who flips off a veteran on Highway 470?
I think this just made them angrier. Because when they speed up in the side lane to pass me, and they see a short woman with salon blonde hair, blasting Justin Bieber music, I obviously do not pass as a combat Marine.
Last week while doing customer deliveries, I got the bird from a man in a respectable four-door yellow jeep. Nothing new. I turned the music up to keep singing with Justin Bieber.
“—F*C* OFF,” a twelve-year-old ish boy in a backwards baseball cap leaned out the Jeeps backseat to tell me. He gave me a mini bird. At this point, I was feeling pretty sorry for myself, so I switched over to Celine Dion and did not sing along.
After I had finished my last delivery in Boulder of gluten-free pizza crusts, I called William on Bluetooth.
“Am I bad driver,” I screamed into the dashboard.
“Hannah, I can’t hear you.”
“AM I A BAD DRIVER.”
(William hung up)
As I took the exit to get off Santa Fe Drive, I pulled up behind a delivery truck with a bumper sticker that read: Too Blessed to Be Depressed. This made a proverbial matchstick strike; I am blessed to be depressedabout my driving.
I am blessed to be depressed because every time someone calls me out on not going their speed, it makes me more resilient to stand by the reasons why I am going by my speed: I don’t want customers to have bruised heirloom tomatoes or eggs with concrete-driveway cracks in them.
This resiliency reminds me of Nichole.
🥜Jai Mix: I Had to Instagram stalk Nichole for weeks to get her products. There was something about her bags that contain a mix of peanuts, cashews, crispy rice flakes, and a top-secret spice blend.
When I linked up with Nichole, she was stressed out and bubbly. It was amazing. She is the kind of person you can gossip with for hours, but she never actually says anything bad about anyone.
As I have gotten to know her better, I have learned that Jai Mix was made to create the traditional Indian snack she ate throughout her travels in India. That snack is close to her heart, and she wanted to bring it closer to ours.
After launching, Nichole had to prove her brand. While snack mixes like Jai Mix are popular in India and South Asia, they are not popular or known in Colorado and throughout the States.
What made this journey difficult were the stores that passed on her products because it is so unique, however, Nichole stayed consistent, knowing that the success she wanted for her brand was not going to be immediate, and that “tasting is believing.” While taking passes in stride, and sacrificing weekends and vacations to do demos, Jai Mix has taken off and is expanding. Nichole is now seeing the purpose of her products happen.
Next time I get the middle finger, instead of changing to Celine Dion, I’m going to turn up the lyrics to Justin Bieber. “G-i-r-l you’ve got that yummy y-u-m that yummy y-u-m.”
When I mentioned my dedication to JB during these times of being blessed to be depressed, Nichole said, “I have a love-hate relationship with Justin Bieber.” Amen.
~Hannah King, Owner
ABC Provisions: feel good about what you're eating.