got pickles?

So, there I was, on a Tuesday afternoon, stranded.
No, not my car.
I was at home, with a jar of pickles that I could not open.
Mind you, this was not my first encounter with this stubborn jar.
Oh, no.
The jar and I had gone round and round for several months. I would have a hankering for a pickle and have another go at the jar and the jar would not yield. I would then put the jar back into the refrigerator, to await our next encounter.
I kept meaning to ask for assistance when folks would come by the house.
But, as it happened, the pickles would not come to mind when others were present.
Only when I was alone.
And so I went pickle-less, only thinking about the lack when I would spot the jar and want to have a pickle.

Today, I had decided to have a hamburger sandwich.
I know, for some folks, that's a fairly common lunch item.
Not for me.
I'm rather picky about burger meat.
In fact, this burger might not even be called a burger by some folks, as it contained no beef and was made from ground chicken.
But it was a burger to me and I had been thinking about eating a burger sandwich for a couple of days.
I had my mouth all set for it, you know what I mean?
And I wanted pickles with my burger.

So, I set myself to try to open that jar, one more time.
I ran hot water over the cap.
The cap would not turn.
I turned the jar upside-down, to break the vacuum seal, a trick I have used to good advantage on other jars.
The jar would not open.
I tapped the lid with a knife.
The lid still did not turn.
I put on my gardening gloves with the rubber beads on the palms and fingers.
The pickles remained trapped within the glass.
I even wnet onto the front porch to see if I could flag down someone with strong hands that might be passing by.
No one was there and my neighbors seemed to be gone.
By this time, I was getting angry. All I wanted was to have some pickles with my burger. That's all. That did not seem to be a great demand that I was making. I just wanted some dill pickles with my lunch.
Arrrgghhhh!!!!
Realizing that I was leaning toward the use of my hammer to break the jar, just to get some pickles, the thought occurred to me that I should send out an SOS to my first niece and her husband.

me: Help! I cannot open my jar of pickles! Seriously.
her: Lol. Jason gets off at 3, should I send him over?
me: Yes, please. I have waited for two months to eat these pickles.
me: I have two other jars I cannot open, too.
her: Ok, I will let him know.
me: Thank you so much!
him: I'm getting off work now. I should be there in just a few minutes.
me: Thank you! <3

And so he did.
By the time he arrived, I had five jars lined up on the counter for him.
The pickle jar took a little work, but he finally opened it.
The jar of olives opened fairly readily, too.
But the jar of banana pepper rings refused. He had to put on the gardening gloves and really put some muscle into it, but the cap finally yielded.
As did the previously opened jars of apple butter and mango jam, glued shut by their own sticky residue at their mouths.
Then he and I talked a little while and gave each other big hugs and he headed for home.

I had my burger sandwich... and at least five pickles.
At last!