Em, you may be wondering why I’m writing you an apology. In fact, you may not even remember this. It was a long time ago. But every now and again my conscience pays me an unwelcome visit and reminds me that I’m an asshole and I owe you an apology.
The year was 1999 and I believe we were on our way back from Westland mall in Hialeah, fl. Me, you and my cousin, Mario. The gay one who was half your size. Anyway, we were in your 1979 Volkswagen bug. My cousin and I, in the backseat. You driving us around. Why no one was in the passenger side is beyond me. You must have been trying to make us feel rich or kidnapped. Anyway, my cousin and I were doing our nails in the back when the bug decided to quit on us. “What the fuck, Em!” I said.
Anyway, I have no explanation for what happened next, all I can offer 10 years after the fact, is a thank you and an apology.
You: “Shut up Kelly”.
Me: “What are we going to do? I ate my last granola bar. And my nails aren’t even dry yet. Should we beep someone?”.
You: “No, we need to push.”
Me: “Oh, good idea.”
So you got out the car. Positioned yourself in the rear. Palms laid out in front of you and you pushed. Like I’ve never seen anyone push.
As expected, my cousin and I did not follow. But we talked about it:
Mario: “Shouldn’t we get out and help?”
Me: “Oh god no, she’s totally got this.”
Me: “Yeah, she plays softball.”
Me: “And she likes black guys.”
Mario: “Okay.” And we sat back, admiring our nails, not once looking back or doubting you ability to push us, and a 1000 pounds of metal to safety.