Life Sketches - 12.04.00

One thing that I really enjoy writing are short pieces of dialogue or situations (that may or may not have taken place). I started it awhile back in earnest with the "Re:(Elation?)ship Thoughts" series, but I wanted to open things up and just write about anything and everything, so I'm starting up a brand new batch of stuff (that may or may not continue in a series). As always, some of these may be true while others may not be. Yeah, you're intrigued I'm sure.

A table of us were sitting in the college coffee house talking about what foreign languages we'd taken in high-school. I admitted that although I'd taken a couple semesters of German, I could barely string together a coherent sentence and was destined for a beginners course to fulfill my graduate requirements.

At about this point, one girl who was particularly happy-go-lucky interjected some words of wisdom that made my (at the time) completely love-cynic ears wince. Although she had been reading a book at a different table and not even part of the original conversation, she perked up and broadcast to everyone, "I think it would be great to be able to say 'I love you'" in every language."

A couple people at my table smiled and nodded, but one thing popped into my head and I just had to say it. With barely a pause, I told her (truthfully), "I know how to say 'I want to drink your blood' in five different languages."

She went back to reading, very quickly.

It went like that for a month or so. I'd go over to her dorm room at some point in the evening and we'd end up sitting around on the floor discussing music. It was before I was as big of a music freak as I am now and she was the person I knew who had the most CDs I'd ever seen. Not only that, but it was all stuff that was interesting to me. Every album by groups that I was just starting to get into and lots of obscure music that I had to hunt down after lounging around and hearing it in her room.

For all the time we spent together, nothing ever happened between us other than just talking. The strange thing about it all is that unlike nearly everyone else I met while in college (and since then), I don't have any one CD that reminds me exclusively of her.

As I remember it, I was sitting in the front seat of our old car and my mom was talking to my babysitter about something. At that age, I hadn't paid much attention to how cars worked, but I knew that if I pushed or pulled on something around the steering wheel, it would make a loud noise and that would get the attention of everyone. It wasn't that I needed the attention, but being a small child, I grew impatient at having to sit in the car by myself while the two grownups talked without me.

After a few more moments and deciding that an attention-getting manuever would indeed be the best idea, I again looked over at the steering wheel and decided that the little handle sticking out of the side of it was the best bet for making that loud noise which was my goal.

The lever didn't pull very easily, but I yanked down on it hard and heard it click one notch without making a sound. I was frustrated for only a split second with my decision when I realized that the car was slowly beginning to roll backwards down the slight incline of the driveway. My mom looked over just about the time that I was trying to push the little handle back into place and her eyes grew large at the sight of me frantically trying to remedy the problem while the car rolled away from her.

With a speed probably only granted in times of severe emergency, she bounded towards the moving car and somehow opened the door, hopped inside, and slammed on the brakes in one quick movement, keeping the car from gaining any more speed and plowing into a row of trees about 20 yards behind us.

And I did end up getting some attention, but it wasn't the kind I had originally hoped for.