A Love Story
Posted By Ric Vatner on November 10, 2009
When I started in business I used to live in Elizabeth Bay, in a little one bedroom flat that was distinguished because it had an alcove just off my bedroom that I called my office. It was very small but so was my business.
The alcove could just fit a desk under the window sill of the only window the flat boasted. It was my pride and joy and my clock. I ate breakfast when the sun rose, I thought about lunch when it was high and when the sun went down I looked forward to dinner – wherever I got invited.
The kitchen was at the opposite end of the flat and about the same size as the alcove. It was too small for a fridge which probably hadn’t been invented when these flats were built but that was okay, I couldn’t afford one anyway.
My telephone was located 3 floors down in a structure that resembled a red gazebo with glass windows and was situated on the street just outside my block of flats.
One day, as I was returning to the flat after making some calls, I passed the most beautiful angel I had ever seen. She had traded her wings for a clapped out old wreck of a car and was standing in front of the open bonnet seemingly praying at it.
She was stunning, not too tall, slim, curvy figure and long wispy light brown hair that blew across a perfect face. As I stood looking at her looking at her car she suddenly noticed me, smiled and took a deep breath, like you do when you see someone you know just when you need them.
“Excuse me” she floated over invading my space but I had already surrendered so I didn’t object. “It won’t go” She said looking back at the car and then at me waiting for an answer.
Now I need to tell you that I am probably the world’s least handy man. I had never so much as changed a tyre let alone looked under a bonnet. I had an arrangement with my car, it went and I supplied petrol, never complained and did not tinker with it.
So when I realised that she expected me to fix her beast I had a panic attack and just starred at her in awe and in terror. I couldn’t tell her what a useless sod I was she would find someone else (in a snap). This was a god sent opportunity and I was not going to pass it up.
I needed time; I remembered what the NRMA guy always says and asked her to get in the car and turn the ignition key when I called to her so I could see what happens. “Oh yes, good idea” she said now happy that she had found her knight in shinning armour.
I stood exactly where she had been standing and saw what she had seen and I didn’t recognise it either. “Shall I turn the key now?” she called. I stood there swearing at the car, at me and at the world because I was going to lose her. “Yes” I said but it was inaudible. Speak louder you fool I said to myself. “Okay give it a go now” Wow that sounded good, very professional. I felt a glimmer of hope.
Which died as soon as I heard the engine splutter and die and realised I knew not why.
At that moment I felt a head pop over my shoulder. “Having a problem?” said this cheery but surprisingly confident voice. I could only repeat what she had told me “It won’t go?”
“Sounds like you are out of petrol”
I could have kissed him, I almost did. But that would have delayed him and I could hear her open the door to get out of the car. I needed him gone. Then I did something I am not proud of but sometimes a man has to do what a man has to do. I couldn’t share the credit with him. This was life and death and if it was to be life, three’s a crowd.
I looked him in the face and told him to “Rack off”. He looked shocked, stepped back and thank fully turned his back on me and walked off in a huff. Before I could reprimand myself, she appeared next to me, looking at me like I was some guru master. “Well I’ve fixed the main problem with the carbonica but I’m afraid it looks like you are also out of petrol, but no problem there is a garage not far from here, I’ll go and get you a can”
She was so thankful when I poured the petrol in her tank she said she had to repay me somehow and would I please come over to dinner.
I wanted to scream “There is a God”. Would I PLEASE come over to dinner. I would’ve walked to Perth for a cup of tea with her. We fixed a time and I floated back to my flat.
When I arrived I was slightly miffed when the door was answered by her dad. I imagined a quiet dinner (for two), I would open the bottle of Champaign I brought (my car would go without petrol this month) and later we would sit in front of the fire and make passionate love. No matter it was summer and who has a fire place in Sydney?
I didn’t really pay much attention to him, my eyes were firmly on her. I could see her lips moving and imagined them moving over me. I had to concentrate. I focussed on what she was saying, “This is my boy friend” Wow that was quick, I looked at dad to see what he thought and suddenly realised she was talking about HIM.
He took my bottle but he took far more than that. I can’t remember what we ate, I know I never saw my Champaign again and I know I thought about him a lot as I walked to my appointments that month. Bastard.
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