Moments that Shape Your Life: Chuck & the Car

When I was in college, I dated a hot, rocker guy named Chuck. He was a drummer in a band and had an amazing voice. He was on the Tennis team, so I tried to love tennis. I didn't, but I dug him.

He drove a red sports car. The make and model escape me now, but it doesn't matter, because after I wrecked it, it wasn't so pretty. With his permission to drive it while he was away at a tournament, I took it to the car wash and filled the tank so he'd love me, I mean appreciate me, I mean, so he'd let me drive it again.

On my way out of the gas station, a GIANT Mack truck plowed into me and his pretty car was smashed to smithereens. Not good. Not good at all. Eventually, I called our Sports Trainer and he came over to laugh at me, I mean, help me. He told me that I could drive the car, albeit from the PASSENGER side, so I drove it to campus and did what any responsible adult would do... I hid it in the woods.

My track coach, after hearing that I had been in an accident, demanded that I attend practice so I could work out the joint discomfort and lactic acid that was building up in my bruised body. He was quite the man.

After practice, it started to rain, so I went to the woods, and duck taped trash bags over the busted windows. After all, what damage could TAPE do, on top of everything else? Then I waited outside of his Quad. I wanted to tell him before he heard it from anyone else.

I waited and waited, and it rained and got colder. I needed a pep talk, so I called my friend, Rob. He was a football player, my very first boyfriend, and he was smart. HE'D say something to make it all better.

Through my tears I retold the story and asked him for advice. "What do I do now?"

His response, "It depends. What are you wearing?"

Men.