A new word
Michael Noor just realized that not having a rear video camera on the car can be hazardous to the life of the car.
Backing out of the parking lot of a busy tourist trap parking lot, his fender met face to face with the fender of another vehicle, a small compact convertible. Because both drivers used caution, the meeting was but a kiss of the fenders and not something more eventful.
Both drivers exited their vehicles, and the convertible’s owner literally did two face palms when she saw what she had done.
“I am so so sorry about this. I am such a tart.”
“Hey, no harm. Not even a scratch,” Noor said.
“Are you sure?”
“Take a look for yourself.”
She bent over to look for scratches on both vehicles.
“I don’t know what else to say, except that I am such a tart.”
“Hey hey, don’t worry about it,” Michael said. “Don’t beat yourself up over it. You’re not a tart, whatever that is.”
“Wow, you’re pretty cool for an old guy.”
Forty-nine-year-old Michael Noor wanted to say something witty or corny or clever, but “have a fun day today” was the only thing that popped out of his mouth to this refreshingly honest co-ed who happened to be wearing a hat and jersey from his college Alma Mater.
Tomorrow he might actually look up her odd description of herself, but today he just wanted to bask in his old guy coolness.
Three Minute Fiction is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.