POST TRAUMATIC FLASHBACK

I pulled into the church parking lot this morning for Tuesday Bible study.

The rain had moved on, the sun was bright.

And low.

And in my eyes through my dirty windshield.

There was only one car in the parking lot, then one driving toward me.

He kept coming right toward me.

I stopped.

He stopped. Right in front of me.

I just sat there until he moved.

1968

I had worked my way up to stocker at Safeway.

I had a crush on the short dark-haired cashier that was a year older.

She was friendly.

She had a blue Corvair.

We got off at 9:30, and I walked alone out to the parking lot.

I was driving my mom’s white ’62 Chevy BelAir.

It was winter, and there was a thin sheet of frost on the windshield, so I scraped out enough of a circle to see to drive home.

I started my car, turned toward the exit, and, zipping in front of me, blocking the exit was…

Hendershot!

I didn’t have time for this.

I tried to fake one way, then go the next, but he was too quick.

One more sharp turn and I thought I had him beat…

CRUNCH!

You know the sound.

’62 Belair hits ’61 Corvair?

Yeah, it was hers.

Hendershot was scared.

I coulda killed him.

But I had to go tell her I hit her car.

She was fantastic about it!

We even dated some after that.

But Hendershot was never my friend.

When I told my friend this morning about the flashback, he thought it was funny.

Until I told him the sun was in my eyes, and I didn’t even know who was blocking me until he moved.

Then he said he was sorry.

I wasn’t really upset.

But I would not try to get by him!

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