Ordinary Wonderment

Today's Joy: I Still Got It. Reader, these things always happen when I'm minding my own business. After work, I stopped at Culver's to satisfy my deep-fried cheese curd craving and somewhere between leaving the drive-thru and getting stuck behind a chain-smoking Grandma on busy Randall Rd., I must have stolen a man's heart.

There I was, tootling along behind Iron-Lung Granny and snarfing cheese curds, when I realized I was boxed in and driving under the speed limit. There was an electric blue cross-over riding side-by-side with me in the left lane. I looked over at the driver--a fairly attractive man, clean-cut, mid-30's, wearing wire-rimmed glasses. He was smiling widely and waving at me. I squinted but he didn't look familiar. Then I thought, oh, poor guy. He thinks I'm someone else. I'll just ignore him.

Silly woman, making eye contact only spurred him on. At one point, he was in front of me and waving in his rear view mirror. Eventually I got around Puff Granny and my Road Romeo. But he wasn't giving up yet. He followed me when I turned off on a side road and followed me closely to my final destination. By now, I was getting a little freaked out. I figured he couldn't be anyone I knew--people I know don't tail you down a 4-lane highway for miles and then sit on your bumper at every stoplight.

Once I pulled into my final stop, he paused at the entrance and waved at me before driving off. Tremendously relieved (I was having visions of locking my door and calling 911), I went on with my day.

The more I thought about it, the more I realized that my good hair day and fabulous red scarf had done their job and I must have been quite the temptress in my Dodge Ram pickup, snarfing cheese curds. You must understand, Reader, I'm not used to this sort of attention and usually respond to that kind of scrutiny with alarm. But as my Road Romeo caused no harm, I'm now feeling pleased with myself and inclined to swagger a bit. Evidently, I still got it. Thank you, Road Romeo, for the boost of confidence. Perhaps next time, you could be a little less creepy. Just a thought.