I’m comparing relationships to car rides today.
Firstly, there’s the single life. This is just plain driving. Sometimes the road is bumpy, sometimes it’s smooth, and sometimes there’s enough construction to make you sit in traffic for twenty minutes cussing bureaucrats and construction workers while bobbing your head to the radio. Maybe you’re not in a hurry to reach your destination or you think it’s all about the joy of the journey, or you’re running late and panicking that you’ll never “get there in time.” You’re swerving and tailgating and changing lanes and that’s life.

So then there’s the idea of a “little crush.” That’s like when you’re stopped at a stoplight and the force from the cars passing you in the opposite lane shakes your little car slightly but noticeably. You’re aware of it but it doesn’t really affect you. It’s just there. Just a fact of life. Or something.

Then there’s the whole lust thing. This is like when you see a sign for a great special on car maintenance at your local lube-and-tune and think maybe you wouldn’t mind a little tune-up although you probably don’t need it. Or maybe it’s riding in a car that shakes once you hit twenty-three miles an hour and eyeing the BMW next to you that’s so smoothly cruising along. It’s passing and non-permanent.

Infatuation is liking the idea of a road trip more than the road trip itself. Or maybe that feeling of momentary anxiety when you’re parked at a stoplight between two cars and the second moves up with enough force that your car jerks a little forward and you’re pressing harder on the brake although you’re really not in any danger of hitting the car in front of you. Eh.

Love is, what?, noticing the little noises a car makes right after you’ve turned it off? Or having the faith that it won’t break down on a long road trip? Or having the faith in both the car and your ability to maneuver it should the tire blow out at eighty miles an hour? Or the thrill and the illusion of safety (thank you Tyler Durden) from speeding down the highway knowing you could crash at any moment but feeling ridiculously secure with your hands on the steering wheel?

Wait, is that cynical?

These similes got difficult and are only semi-coherent and poorly written.

Whatever, xxx.

In other news, apparently I’m superstitious, although I never realized it until one of my coworkers pointed it out after I told her about the Straw Rule and the Postcard Rule.

The Straw Rule: Usually I carry straws in my apron at work so I always have them (and get annoyed when people at my tables ask for one while I have a tray full of drinks and oh, let me drop all these to reach into my apron pocket and get YOU a straw, but whatever) for every table. Sometimes towards the end of a shift, I’ll take them out of my pocket thinking I won’t have any more tables coming in to wait on. Wrong. It never fails that as soon as I take the straws out, I get sat with another table. So I’m learning to keep straws in my pockets at all times, especially when I want to get cut (i.e., not taking any more tables and going home soon) or when it’s five minutes ’til close and I’m praying no one else comes in.

For instance, the other day at lunch I hadn’t had straws in my apron all morning because I was grumpy, whatever. I get sat with a new table and it occurs to me to stock up on straws in my apron. So I load up on ‘em. Literally two minutes later I was cut and able to get ready to go home. Mmhmm.

The Postcard Rule: We have to fill out these postcard coupons for our tables at the end of our shift. Some people wait days and fill out a lot of them at once. I’ve discovered that every time I think, “Oh, I’ll just fill these out in the morning when I work because we’ll be slow and I’ll have time,” then we get absolutely slammed right off in the morning and I have NO time to do postcards. Never fails. Never.

Blah blah blah. Long ramble here. There are more rules like this but who cares.

That’s all.

Peace, love, and faith that your car won’t break down on a long road trip.