‘What does he think of me?’ I wondered as I started up Polly, my little blue Micra. There were two great mysteries in my life – The male brain, and the science behind parallel parking. I had yet to fully figure out either, and both had my stress levels at an all-time high. Trying to squeeze myself into his schedule was as much of a hassle as on-street parking. Both made me equally nervous, and neither seemed possible within the next 45 years.
My phone vibrated in my handbag as I drove through my third pothole. I knew it could be from three possibilities – Dominos offering me a discount code on my next Hawaiian, one of the girls asking me if I wanted to grab the dominos with her, or… him. Probably not enquiring about dominos for a date night, just simply popping up to remind me of his existence today.
His reappearance was never to make progress, I think it was simply to emotionally slow me down. I was lost trying to navigate the potential of us. I didn’t know what the speed limit was or what lane I should be in, would we ever be moving forward or would we just keep stalling? He was so predictable, yet when it came to us, I always felt like we had learner stickers stuck on our heads.
I pulled into a space, after 14 parking attempts and three meltdowns, took a deep breath, and checked my phone. It was then that I realised, I still had no idea what I meant to him, but I knew I had 20% off my next medium pizza.