Love at First Sight

I pray thee, gentle mortal, sing again;
Mine ear is much enamoured of thy note.
So is mine eye enthralled to thy shape,
And thy fair virtue's force perforce doth move me
On the first view to say, to swear, I love thee.

— A Midsummer Night's Dream
William Shakespeare

For the once-in-a-lifetime to happen twice in a year is not unheard of, but all the same, I realize it's rare. Even so, I already knew I loved the Caliber when all I could see of it were its sparkling metallic hind quarters (funny, I believe that's the first I saw of Brent, too) poking out from the wash bay, glistening. And when I got along side of it my eyes misted and my heart began to pound, because sure enough, there on the window sticker were the words, "This car was built especially for Adriane Skinner."

It won't seem to sink in. Right now it still feels like something I have to give back, like it might return to its original vegetable form at midnight with a poof, in a cloud of fairy dust. I'm a little bit afraid of it. All I want to do is wash it and stare at it, pluck the little threads of manufacturing detritus from its glossy surface to reassure myself that they're not scratches. It shines like the Chrysler building and smells inside like scalded rubber and seared metal, and the motor is so quiet I can't tell when it's running. People look at this car like it's a dirty joke, a really good dirty joke they heartily enjoy but don't approve of. They look stunned, a little jealous, occasionally scared, but if they notice the car at all, they grin.

Like me. It makes me grin. I keep going outside just to look at it, and in a little while I'm going to drive it again (feeling better now that it's insured) and get to know it, decide on its gender, give it a name. I'll post photos soon.

This looks like the beginning of a beautiful friendship.