2001-09-01 - 12:00 p.m.

This guy J is sitting in the back of my car. I don�t know him � he�s got spiked hair, earrings, a scary jacket. He�s a full-body punk, and he�s sitting in the back of my car.

I chuckle. Partly it�s because of the car. It�s just a silly looking car, my teal Ford Festiva, short and squat, like Mr. Magoo�s famous buggy. I like to call it the eggplant, though it�s not purple. It just reminds me of an eggplant.

I�ve always felt a bit sheepish about this car. I know it�s not particularly cool. It�s not one of those romantic cars that cruises along the open roads or climbs mountain passes on TV. It�s more like one that the middle-age woman throws groceries into the back of and just thanks God that it�s still functioning.

And now here�s this punk rocker who I haven�t said 20 words to, waiting patiently in the back of the eggplant. If I met J on the street, maybe I would feel embarassed asking him to get in. But there he sits, quietly in the back, all squished up and waiting. I can lean up against the car and feel confident, like I don�t give a damn.

Marius comes out of the house. �Can one of you guys give me a hand here?� J gets out to help.

He�s trying to get the power back. Before we left an hour ago, Marius went to turn on the blow drier and the place blacked out. Too many lights, A/C, TV, VCR, and we were sitting in the dark. Screw it, he said, and we left to get J. But then he had a change of heart � it�s no fun to come home drunk to a darkened apartment. So we�re back at his place, trying to restore the power.

I look lazily around the neighborhood. A couple of hispanic boys are off to my left, playing basketball. Their net is a milk crate tied to a tree. The sidewalk is their court. One boy bangs his fist against a mailbox as he advances to the basket. They play full-out, pressing their bodies against each other as they jockey for position, extending their little bodies as they struggle to reach the ball to the net. The ball sails wide and the boys rush out into the street to get it.

I see the lights flicker on in the top window. �Okay. You�ve got it!� I say. And then we�re all climbing back into the eggplant, ready for an evening of fun.

previous - next