So, my magazine killed this story after I had already written it. I'm going to rework it and try to sell it somewhere else, but for now I'll post it here.
It's You
I wont tell you her name. This is done party as a courtesy, but it has also been many years and hundreds of thousands of miles since that night, and I confess I have forgotten what it was. I do, however, remember that she was beautiful. I was at a friends house, two friends actually, who shared the upstairs of a duplex in an old house with a wide balcony. That summer, we filled up the hours as young people often do. We would sit on the balcony, drink beer, listen to music and have the kinds of pointless conversations which people who spend too much time together have, generally well into the night, and often until the morning.
On this particular night, she was already there when I arrived with my contribution to the nights beer stocks. There was nothing unusual about someone I didnt know being there, there were always a half-dozen or so people in attendance that didnt live there, and I only sometimes knew all of them. She was an excellent conversationalist, charming and a very animated talker. It wasnt obvious to me how she knew anybody else there, but she seemed to be at least an acquaintance of everybody but me. When it came time for me to leave, one of the hosts asked me if I would drive the girl home. She was somehow there without a car and although it wasnt exactly on my way home, it wasnt too far out of my way either.
We got to my car, and as we pulled out onto the street, the song Its You by Toots and the Maytals came on my stereo. Her face lit up and she reached over and turned up the volume. She began to dance along, at least as much as is possible while seated without look ridiculous, and ridiculous was the last thing she looked like. Her eyes were closed and her hands were on her head, tousling her hair as she danced, her graceful figure moving in time to the music. I had rolled down all the windows and opened the sunroof, allowing the music to mingle with the rush of air and the hot, high-pitched whine of the supercharger; the muggy night air mixing with just the right amount of her perfume.
The song ended just as we pulled up to a red light and I looked over at her. Some of the hair she had been playing with hung in front of her face. Her eyes glowed, and a smile was spread broadly across her pretty but partly obscured face. I dont know how anyone couldnt like this music. she said, before continuing I dont like to think this, but I think anyone who doesnt must be a bad person. She gave a little laugh and resumed her dancing as the next song started. We didnt talk much for the rest of the ride, after all, what was there to say? She just enjoyed the music while I enjoyed what turned out to be an excellent drive, made that much better because the angelic brunette next to me was also having a good time.
She told me when we arrived at what turned out to be her parents house, and I pulled into the driveway. She hopped out, still wearing that bewitching smile and saying that she hoped to see me again soon. I never did see her again though, and a few years later I remember hearing someone say that she (whatever her name was) had gotten married, although it was still unclear how this person knew her.
Ive had plenty of great drives since then, and Ive been around plenty of beautiful women, but every so often, something in my brain will send me back to that night. The right driving conditions, the right summer night or the right Toots and the Maytals song and Ill be back in that car, with its intoxicating mix of stimuli. I couldnt tell you what it was exactly about that drive that made it stay with me for so long, but I think all of the best times have an element to them that you will never be able to explain.
It's You
I wont tell you her name. This is done party as a courtesy, but it has also been many years and hundreds of thousands of miles since that night, and I confess I have forgotten what it was. I do, however, remember that she was beautiful. I was at a friends house, two friends actually, who shared the upstairs of a duplex in an old house with a wide balcony. That summer, we filled up the hours as young people often do. We would sit on the balcony, drink beer, listen to music and have the kinds of pointless conversations which people who spend too much time together have, generally well into the night, and often until the morning.
On this particular night, she was already there when I arrived with my contribution to the nights beer stocks. There was nothing unusual about someone I didnt know being there, there were always a half-dozen or so people in attendance that didnt live there, and I only sometimes knew all of them. She was an excellent conversationalist, charming and a very animated talker. It wasnt obvious to me how she knew anybody else there, but she seemed to be at least an acquaintance of everybody but me. When it came time for me to leave, one of the hosts asked me if I would drive the girl home. She was somehow there without a car and although it wasnt exactly on my way home, it wasnt too far out of my way either.
We got to my car, and as we pulled out onto the street, the song Its You by Toots and the Maytals came on my stereo. Her face lit up and she reached over and turned up the volume. She began to dance along, at least as much as is possible while seated without look ridiculous, and ridiculous was the last thing she looked like. Her eyes were closed and her hands were on her head, tousling her hair as she danced, her graceful figure moving in time to the music. I had rolled down all the windows and opened the sunroof, allowing the music to mingle with the rush of air and the hot, high-pitched whine of the supercharger; the muggy night air mixing with just the right amount of her perfume.
The song ended just as we pulled up to a red light and I looked over at her. Some of the hair she had been playing with hung in front of her face. Her eyes glowed, and a smile was spread broadly across her pretty but partly obscured face. I dont know how anyone couldnt like this music. she said, before continuing I dont like to think this, but I think anyone who doesnt must be a bad person. She gave a little laugh and resumed her dancing as the next song started. We didnt talk much for the rest of the ride, after all, what was there to say? She just enjoyed the music while I enjoyed what turned out to be an excellent drive, made that much better because the angelic brunette next to me was also having a good time.
She told me when we arrived at what turned out to be her parents house, and I pulled into the driveway. She hopped out, still wearing that bewitching smile and saying that she hoped to see me again soon. I never did see her again though, and a few years later I remember hearing someone say that she (whatever her name was) had gotten married, although it was still unclear how this person knew her.
Ive had plenty of great drives since then, and Ive been around plenty of beautiful women, but every so often, something in my brain will send me back to that night. The right driving conditions, the right summer night or the right Toots and the Maytals song and Ill be back in that car, with its intoxicating mix of stimuli. I couldnt tell you what it was exactly about that drive that made it stay with me for so long, but I think all of the best times have an element to them that you will never be able to explain.
And I agree. We should get drunk. I have been enjoying this sweet Belgian beer recently. Its called Kasteel rouge. It actually does taste a bit sweet but holy fuck it is good. I should be moving soon. we will have a housewarming party, we will have alcohol and food.