Sometimes I am acutely aware of how little I know about how things work.
Yesterday I was headed out for a bit when I noticed two women standing by a car across the parking lot. Two cute women, as far as I could tell (is there a word for someone who looks cute from a distance but not up close?)
One was peering into the car window while the other appeared to fidget with the driver’s side door. She was either trying to get the key to work or trying to access the lock some other way. Isn’t there a trick with a credit card or a hanger?
They looked like they could use some help. For a split second I thought, “I should go help.” I should be that guy. After all, they were cute, so maybe one of them was single and would invite me to a house party that they’re having this weekend, and their apartment is right near mine, which is convenient, and we’d end up having a great time at the party, sharing a pomegranate-infused kiss at the end of the party, and soon we’re going out, taking walks, talking about life and love and how peaknuckle is spelled pinochle (weird), then she’s moving in, wearing yoga pants (or less) around the house, being kind to my cats and sometimes busy with her creative projects and friends, but with just the right amount of time for me (and she loves board games, of course), and then we’re engaged and married and having kids and sending them off to school with sandwiches and the occasional treat, but we still maintain healthy relationships with other friends and each other, and we flirt every day, even as we get old and I can’t get it up anymore and her face is no longer smooth, but I know and love the story behind every wrinkle, every crease….
But then I realized that I know nothing about cars, and I kept walking.
I probably should have offered to help anyway, just to show them that someone cared. But really, it hit me right away that there was literally nothing I could offer them. I would just be another bystander making them feel awkward as they tried to get into their car. At the very best, I could have called AAA and tried to convince them that I had a different car.
Is it just me, or do most people my age (32, bah) know nothing about cars?