In 2007, we had our first weekend rendezvous. The spontaneity of it only augmented the excitement. I booked a hotel and car for a 2-day songwriting conference in North Carolina and tagged on some sightseeing before the conference. We met after the flight landed. The rental place aided and abetted when they offered me a deal of $5 a day more just to have you.
We had the quintessential weekend fling in the Carolina smoky mountains including a visit to the Vanderbilt Estate and wine-tasting, culminating in the drive up the winding road to the Vanderbilt, top down, towering emerald pines rising above my head with nothing between me and them but wind and azure sky.
After that illicit weekend, I went back to the minivan and small sedan of my real, boring life. But I wanted you for my own and thought about you endlessly. It was my goal to not only meet again, but to share my life with you.
Years passed. Another weekend liaison in California occurred that fired up my passion again.
Finally, I had the chance to meet you and buy you for my very own. But it was 10 years later and when I went to see you I saw you for what you really were. Torn, old and dated. You were dirty and leaky. Your top didn't even work. How did I spend so many years wanting an illusion? So many years not appreciating what I had.
It's over.
It's finally over.
My affair with a Chevy Sebring convertible is over.
I will never look outside the four walls of my garage again.
Although, I do have my eye on a VW beetle. And it's a convertible.
2 comments:
Great story! Mine is a little red Mazda Miata. I've even sat in one in a showroom. Its impracticality does not sway me from the imagined adventures on the Blue Ridge Parkway. Someday....
Thanks for sharing. Yes, maybe someday.
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