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Popping the hood and the question A mutual friend introduced us in Carolina Beach in the summer of 1974. I was 21. He was 29. Mid-conversation, which took all of three minutes, he audaciously asked if I’d heard of a group called Cream. It was 1974. I was 21. Of course I had. Weeks later in downtown Southport, I parked the borrowed car of our mutual friend in an angled parking space by a wide sidewalk in front of a plate glass storefront window. I’d been cautioned that the car had a slight transmission linkage problem, sometimes hindering gear changes. Did I listen? I was 21. Of course I didn’t. Angled parking is a wonderfully simple procedure: Drive forward to the curb, stop, run your errands, reverse, pull forward, drive away. Unless you’re having linkage problems. He was walking down the sidewalk toward the car and recognized it. Instead of effortlessly backing into the street, I was inching over the sidewalk toward the plate glass window storefront. He popped the hood, jiggled something or other, and sent me on my way, but not before asking me to dinner. Did I say yes? Of course I did. We’ve been married 33 years. Debra Brigman, Rockingham, Pee Dee Electric |
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