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Buddhism and The Booty-Call pt.2

October 25, 2012

It was uneventful. I mean super uneventful. Like, OMG I guess he’s not really that into me after all uneventful. First times can be that way. Maybe he was tired, or overwhelmed by the invitation, or tired or felt out of his league to finally have the chance he never thought he’d have, or maybe he was put off by my playlist that is a CFM mix of jazz and reggae and hardcore hip hop and then just when you think you have it figured out a little Andrea Bocelli sneaks in or did I say maybe he was tired but got in the car at crazy o’clock in the morning to come over anyway because it was, well, a booty-call!  Since I had no real expectations beyond the proverbial booty-call I deemed it an, I coulda had a V-8 moment and was ready to forget it ever happened – never to have it happen again.

Earlier in the evening at the birthday party it came up how my 10 year old car had been giving me the business and it may be time to put it out of its misery, rather than investing in one more costly repair.

Most likely fueled by the embarrassment of booty-call turned taffy-pull, Jeremy asked, “What did you say was wrong with your car? I have a guy who can look at it,” as I lighted my post-not-quite-coital cigarette.

I rattled off the litany of things I thought to be wrong with my old driving machine and he volunteered to contact his guy to see if he could fix them. Great, I thought, well at least there’s that and a couple of days later after no further mention of it, I asked if he had talked to his guy. He said he had, but that the guy didn’t do the kind of work I needed. That was fine. I was done, content with leaving things as they had been prior to our Nay-Kidd-time…but is that ever possible?

A few days later, while preparing to leave for vacation I tried to use my car but the battery appeared to be dead. A visit from AAA confirmed that it was not the battery and that along with all the things I knew to be wrong with it, there was now a new unknown mechanical problem. With an early morning flight scheduled and the car parked on the side of the street scheduled for street cleaning the next day, I called Jeremy to see if his guy may be able to fix whatever this new problem was. Since I was leaving in the morning I asked would he be interested in coming by to pick up my keys so he and his guy could at least get it started and move it from the street cleaning side so I wouldn’t be ticketed. He agreed, and seemed delighted to be able to help me.

As I vacationed, poolside he called to let me know my car needed a new starter which he had replaced and that I did not get a ticket. He made no mention of what I owed him for the repair so I chalked it up to just one of those things a man does for a woman and thanked him for helping me. I promised to cook him whatever was his favorite dinner when I returned; thinking we’d all live happily ever after, right? But the next day… TO BE CONTINUED

                                                                                                                                                               

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