That Time I Almost Married My Siren
For a lifetime of pain
I was 17 by the time I got my license because I just didn’t care much. All my friends drove so it didn’t seem that important.
The reason it’s so scary for parents to let their kids go driving around on their own is because they’re behind the wheel of a big, powerful machine that has its own agenda. Teenagers have no idea what it’s capable of, or how to recover if it does go rogue. Also, kids are dumb.
Just a few weeks after getting my license my car did go rogue, though I’m the one that caused it. But I’m not sure I was entirely alone in the blame.
I was a stock boy at a local grocery store. Okay, actually, I was a cashier first and then a stock boy second — I guess because I was able to count money. I never fit in with the stock boys and I always got along better with all the girl cashiers. Another nuance of me, another example of a life neither black or white.
On a particularly cold February night, snow covered roads kept people home. I helped restock what little milk, TP, and bread had been panic-bought, then balanced my register and headed home in my navy blue ’86 Ford Taurus.
It was Valentines day and I had sent my girlfriend flowers and was anxious to get home and see if she got them. With any luck the light…
