The Nail - A Friendship Killer?
It was a sign.
The nail with a metal casing, poignantly stuck deep in her left front tire. As she left his meticulously spotless car, a little - no, more than a little mad that he didn't even introduce her to his "family" who were dining outside, even though he had written her that he wouldn't mind meeting her family, she quickly got into her car to leave.
Gear in drive, her foot on the gas pedal, she headed home, even though she didn't know the way to go home without looking at a map. That's when she heard the "clunk" "clunk" noise. She paid it no heed at first. Thinking, maybe it's another car. But the noise continued and she realized it must be her car. She veered to the right, and parked on the side of the busy street. She got out to inspect the tires. There must be something there. But she couldn't see anything. So she got back in her car, and drove on. But the noise continued, and she got scared. That if she were to drive on, something worse could happen. So once again, she pulled over to the side of the street, and went for another inspection. There. She saw it clearly. A nail, quite verily deep in her tire. She wouldn't have minded so much, but for the fact that attached to the nail, was a metal casing, the source of the "clunk" "clunk" noise.
She took in her surroundings, looking to see if there was someone who could confirm her thoughts. A young man in his twenties happened to walk towards her. So she waved at him and asked for advice. He conceded, though he knew little about cars, that taking the nail out would not be wise. She nodded, and asked him about the nearest gas station. You're in luck, he said. There's one right up ahead. Thanking him, she drove two blocks down to a tiny Shell station. To her discontent, and quite frankly, her amazement, the sign on the door said, Sat & Sun, 5 p.m. close.
She called her Father. Dad, I have a nail in my tire. Can I continue driving? Are you crazy! he shouted over the phone. Where are you! he demanded. She replied meekly, Minneapolis. Why are you there? his loud voice booming,m and she answered, coming home from a friend's house. Ok. he replied. Stay there, and I'll come over right now with my tools. Ok, Dad. Oh, I have a spare tire in my trunk. She sat in her car waiting for her dad. She texted her friend. I have a nail in my tire. Where is the nearest car shop near your neighborhood? She thought to ask, in case her father needed extra tools. Her friend wrote back - where are you? I can come pick you up. Plus I'm a good mechanic, I have the tools. Plus, it's probably not very safe where you are. But she didn't want his help. She felt snubbed in a way. So politely, she only replied, thanks.
About a half hour passed, and her father arrived. Quickly, he replaced her tire and they were ready to head home. Daddy, she said. Thank you so much. And though she wanted to hug him, because he's always there for her, she refrained from doing so. It would embarrass him. Gruffly he replied, just don't make this a habit. She laughed and said, yes Daddy.
They had gone out to visit the fair. It was hot and she wasn't sure if she still wanted to be his friend. But she felt obligated to go with him. Simply because, she couldn't say no when he asked. When she's with him, she's not herself. She's quiet. Pensive. And her mind wanders. He chatters a lot, though he says he normally doesn't. But she says nothing, and listens to him talk about his golden years in high school. They're a mismatch, she knows that. He knows that too. But she thought maybe, they could be friends. But each and every time they've hung out. She's not the person she really is. And so, she knows, she cannot be his friend. The nail in her tire was a sign, she believes. No, she knows. But how to break off a recent friendship? With no good reason, except for a nail in her tire.
The nail with a metal casing, poignantly stuck deep in her left front tire. As she left his meticulously spotless car, a little - no, more than a little mad that he didn't even introduce her to his "family" who were dining outside, even though he had written her that he wouldn't mind meeting her family, she quickly got into her car to leave.
Gear in drive, her foot on the gas pedal, she headed home, even though she didn't know the way to go home without looking at a map. That's when she heard the "clunk" "clunk" noise. She paid it no heed at first. Thinking, maybe it's another car. But the noise continued and she realized it must be her car. She veered to the right, and parked on the side of the busy street. She got out to inspect the tires. There must be something there. But she couldn't see anything. So she got back in her car, and drove on. But the noise continued, and she got scared. That if she were to drive on, something worse could happen. So once again, she pulled over to the side of the street, and went for another inspection. There. She saw it clearly. A nail, quite verily deep in her tire. She wouldn't have minded so much, but for the fact that attached to the nail, was a metal casing, the source of the "clunk" "clunk" noise.
She took in her surroundings, looking to see if there was someone who could confirm her thoughts. A young man in his twenties happened to walk towards her. So she waved at him and asked for advice. He conceded, though he knew little about cars, that taking the nail out would not be wise. She nodded, and asked him about the nearest gas station. You're in luck, he said. There's one right up ahead. Thanking him, she drove two blocks down to a tiny Shell station. To her discontent, and quite frankly, her amazement, the sign on the door said, Sat & Sun, 5 p.m. close.
She called her Father. Dad, I have a nail in my tire. Can I continue driving? Are you crazy! he shouted over the phone. Where are you! he demanded. She replied meekly, Minneapolis. Why are you there? his loud voice booming,m and she answered, coming home from a friend's house. Ok. he replied. Stay there, and I'll come over right now with my tools. Ok, Dad. Oh, I have a spare tire in my trunk. She sat in her car waiting for her dad. She texted her friend. I have a nail in my tire. Where is the nearest car shop near your neighborhood? She thought to ask, in case her father needed extra tools. Her friend wrote back - where are you? I can come pick you up. Plus I'm a good mechanic, I have the tools. Plus, it's probably not very safe where you are. But she didn't want his help. She felt snubbed in a way. So politely, she only replied, thanks.
About a half hour passed, and her father arrived. Quickly, he replaced her tire and they were ready to head home. Daddy, she said. Thank you so much. And though she wanted to hug him, because he's always there for her, she refrained from doing so. It would embarrass him. Gruffly he replied, just don't make this a habit. She laughed and said, yes Daddy.
They had gone out to visit the fair. It was hot and she wasn't sure if she still wanted to be his friend. But she felt obligated to go with him. Simply because, she couldn't say no when he asked. When she's with him, she's not herself. She's quiet. Pensive. And her mind wanders. He chatters a lot, though he says he normally doesn't. But she says nothing, and listens to him talk about his golden years in high school. They're a mismatch, she knows that. He knows that too. But she thought maybe, they could be friends. But each and every time they've hung out. She's not the person she really is. And so, she knows, she cannot be his friend. The nail in her tire was a sign, she believes. No, she knows. But how to break off a recent friendship? With no good reason, except for a nail in her tire.
posted by Lishtar at
9:41 PM
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