If I didn't know Sarah Olson, I never would have sublet her apartment and lived at Melville House for several months while she went to Ghana.
Sarah Olson had a car. An old BMW I think. It lived on Melville Avenue. We would move it every now and then so it wouldn't get towed. Then my car broke down. And I took the liberty of borrowing her car.
I was dating this boy, see. DH was his name. He didn't have a car. And so it went that I always drove because I had the car. It sort of irritated me. Yeah. So when my car broke down and we borrowed Sarah's (she wasn't using it!), I took advantage and forced DH to drive.
We went to a Good Friday concert put on by the Valparaiso Singers. I wore green. He held my hand. Then he drove to his apartment. This is where Sarah's car became the factor that altered the events of that night.
If my car hadn't broken down, I would have driven us to the concert. Then I would have dropped him off. I don't think I would have walked him to his door. It was cold. I was in short sleeves and a skirt. I was also sort of afraid he would kiss me. I was going to escape back home and remain unkissed. (Yes, I was a wimp. I was also 23 and never kissed before.) I would have stayed in the drivers seat, given him an awkward hug over the gear shift, and then he would have got out of the car. And I would have driven away.
But my car did break down. And we borrowed Sarah's car. I made him drive. Hence, when we went to his apartment to drop him off, I was still in the passenger seat. I had to get out and walk to the other side of the car to get into the drivers seat in order to drive myself home. And well, what happened when our paths crossed outside the car was totally because of Sarah Olson and her car.
Thanks for "letting" me borrow your car Sarah. It was a memorable experience.
1 comment:
I wish your blog had a like button. I would push it all the time.
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