Once upon a time, I was going out to lunch with a very charming, good-looking, young gentleman. Prior to driving to the restaurant, I went into the backseat of the car to put on a different pair of shoes...flip flops to be exact. I mean, it is late March after all!
I put my right hand on the door to balance myself so I didn't fall onto the pavement. (That would've been a sight!)
Unfortunately, at that very moment, the same very charming, good-looking, young gentleman rolled down the back window and then rolled it back up catching my middle finger in between the glass and the door frame.
Ouch.
I yelled, "Ouch!" and the very charming, good-looking, young gentleman gasped and said something to the effect of, "Oh my God! Are you okay? I'm so sorry!"
I was perfectly fine...but my eyes watered anyways.
This episode in the parking lot brought me right back to the summer of 1999(?).
My father had rented a house down the Cape for a week and we decided to go mini-golfing. I drove my grandfather, my brother and his girlfriend at the time to the course just down the street. She was awful but that's not what this story is about.
Being in his eighties, it took "The Big O" a good long while to get himself out of the passenger seat. Foolishly, he used the car frame in between the front and the back seat to help himself out. That's when my brother decided to shut his back door...and when I decided to lock the doors...catching grandpa's fingers...yep, you guessed it...in the door.
Have no fear, "The Big O" played, probably, his best game of mini-golf ever, earning himself three holes-in-one (if my memory serves me correctly).
This afternoon, I didn't have a monumental golf game but I did enjoy a chicken tender meal and split a strawberry Awful Awful with a great great guy. I consider that a win.
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