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Saturday, April 05, 2003

When you least expect it

Spring has finally arrived. Yippee. Bright sunny Spring days and clear Spring nights. That’s what she lives for.

It’s just too nice to stay inside on the lunch hour. She heads down to the old towne mall for her favorite springtime activity: Peoplewatching. Unfortunately, the sidewalks are way too crowded. So much so, that when one person takes a step, everyone takes a step. It’s like one large choreographed slow moving troupe of old towne mall steppers.

Finally, she makes her way to the outer edge of the sidewalk. As she notices a slow moving car out of the corner of her eye, something falls from the sky right in front of her face. Actually, it was so close it brushed her skin. She pays the falling something no mind and focuses her attention on a car as she keeps pace with the moving crowd. And the car, a Corvette, oddly seems to be keeping pace with her.

Sizing up the car. It’s a Marlboro Maroon 1965 Corvette ragtop with a big block 327 fuel injected engine. She knows all this because, for reasons she can’t recall, she knows things about the 1965 Corvette. The interior is black leather. She can tell because the top is down.

For some unknown reason, the guy driving the car is looking right at her. She tries to look away, but she’s drawn to him and the fact that he’s silently and very slowly mouthing the words, "beep, beep" right at her. She imperceptibly shakes her head at the disturbing sight. She thinks to herself, the old towne mall just isn’t what it used to be as she resolves to get the hell outta there as quick as possible.

Suddenly, whatever it was that fell right in front of her before, has fallen again. Or maybe it’s a different something, but of the same nature. Growing mildly concerned about the falling unidentified things, she looks down to the ground in between steps and sees a strip of bacon. Fried. Semi-crispy. Oh, no. She moves her left hand to her hair She’s shocked and embarrassed to realize one of her worst nightmares: She inadvertently neglected to brush the bacon strips from her hair before she left the house that morning.

Apparently, when she moved her arm up, the guy in the Vette thought she was waving to him, because he extended his right hand from the gear shifter and waved to her. Oh dear. But it wasn’t the "hey, hi, how are ya" kind of wave It was some other kind of wave. It was a wave she was most unaccustomed to. It was the "come here" wave.

The crowd had shifted from slow moving stepping to stop and go stepping and she momentarily loses her balance. But only slightly and not enough to fall. To catch herself from falling down completely, she puts her left foot in the street. As the crowd gears up again, she finds herself walking with one foot on the curb and one foot in the street.

Abruptly, the crowd stops moving. Just as abruptly, the Vette guy stops driving and stops mouthing his little beep beep sing song. She’s convinced he must think she’s a real strange-o with all that bacon in her hair.

For some reason, she’s not surprised when he extends his arm to open the door for her to get in. As she places her hand over her heart, he says to her, "Get Outta My Dreams, Get into My Car." All she can do is nod her head in amazement as she gets in his car.

Settling into the black leather, she leans into him and puts her hand on his thigh. He runs his hand through her bacon-laced hair. Their lips meet in a frenzy of heated passion like two long-lost lovers meeting on a crisp Spring day.

As he shifts into third, she asks him, "by the way, what’s your name?"

"They call me Subhonker7," he says with a crooked grin.

Thus began her life with Subhonker7.

Posted by Marie at April 5, 2003 11:42 PM