I knew it from the instant I shifted into reverse and started backing up the car. Without a doubt I would have difficulty parallel parking in front of the local diner. But I was determined and persisted until I finally maneuvered the car into position. Not bad I thought, for a woman driver.
As I climbed out of my car, a gentleman approached me. He noticed my hesitant gait, due to a disability, and kindly asked if he could assist me. I thanked him and slipped my hand into his arm. As we began walking to the entrance of the diner, he proceeded to tell me that he and a friend had noticed me struggling to park my car as they sat near the diner’s front window.
“We like to watch driver’s attempt to parallel park,” he said, “and then rank their ability from one to ten, with ten being the best.” I smiled and curiously listened as he continued. “When we saw you pulling in, we immediately gave you a grade of three.” I looked at him with dismay, but of course he was right! He noticed my expression and quickly added, “However, by the time you finished we agreed that you deserved a nine.”
I laughed and replied, “You know, that reminds me of my sixteenth birthday. Parallel parking has plagued me from the start and for weeks prior to my birthday, I worried, with certainty, that I would not park my car properly and, thus, fail to obtain my driver’s license. But I was lucky. I did pass and the next day my parent’s allowed me to drive the family car to school.”
As he had a very pleasant and friendly manner we continued chatting easily. He was in town visiting his friend in order to interview him and write a biography about the friend’s life. I was surprised when he mentioned his friend’s name and I told him my Father, in fact, had known the man through some business dealings. But that was only the beginning of this coincidence. We reached the front door and I had so enjoyed talking with him that when I thanked him I also spontaneously introduced myself.
But I was shocked when he told me his name. “Kit,” I said, “we went to high school together.” Of course he looked at me in disbelief. “Really,” I blurted out, “West High, 1958.”
“You’re kidding,” he answered and pointed to himself, “Yeah, West High, 1956.” We had known each other when we were young. And now by sheer coincidence we had met again. With that we exchanged email addresses and promised to keep in touch.
