I’m on the verge of getting my very first car. But before she and I meet, fate is giving me one last taste of why I went to the trouble of learning to drive.
I had to go to a clinic in a neighboring town for cardiovascular testing, and it’s been a trip from hell. It’s blistering hot, I have to change buses, wait for almost an hour in the sun in the midst of the highway with nothing else around, then get into another bus, then one more. And then the way back that’s even worse because the route changed this month and I can’t find out where the new bus stop is. I’ve been traveling since 10 am today and I’m still nowhere near home. Of course, by car I’d get to the clinic in about 10 minutes.
And as always, I meet the same woman on every bus I take today which makes the situation even more Kafkaesque.
In the midst of all this, N calls me to talk about the car. N has many amazing qualities but speaking fast is not one of them.
“So about the car,” he says and falls into a lengthy pause.
I know not to interrupt to avoid making the process so long that my battery will die.
“The seller… (pause) changed his mind… (a long pause) and he now doesn’t… (a very long pause) bring the car… (an extremely long pause) to our town.”
After this a really interminable pause sets in.
“He wants to bring it to my work,” N finally announces.
Here I can keep it in no longer and erupt in a passionate monologue about the poor little car that will languish in a faraway place, and I won’t even be able to meet it, and what a horrible unfairness, and when will I finally get reunited with the car, and my phone is dying, and oh God it’s so hot here, but I’m fine, don’t worry, it’s just that I really hoped to meet the car today, you know?
“Yes,” N says. “But all that matters is that we are together.”
And then my last bus finally arrives. I hope it is really the last one.