THE PAINT POT
darrell romine
12-13-2018
Mixing the colors, Does it matter.
Not when you're truly in love.
CHAPTER ONE
It was raining sideways, it was friday night, and Del Shaughnessy wanted to get home. Work had been a bear, he had stayed up late writing the previous night and traffic was maddening. He was just beginning to make headway through an accident scene, when he saw her. The beautiful girl from work that he had noticed before, and she had a flat tire in the worse possible place. He felt sorry for her, it was rotten luck. She looked up and saw him, her face flashed some hope for a moment. He had to get home, so he averted his eyes. He could see the light go out of her eyes and she began to cry. There was something about those soft brown eyes pouring out tears in the middle of a rainstorm that gripped him. He thought, "Franz Kafka would have loved this scenario. A loser trashing his friday evening for a girl who would probably forget his name in ten minutes." He moved his car over to the side in front of her car, thus sentencing himself to at least a couple hours delay.
He slipped on his raincoat and stepped into the driving rain. She looked up and he saw the hope in her eyes again. He said, "I'm Del Shaughnessy, we both work at InterCorp, I'm an IT guy. Can I help you?" She smiled, "I'm Carlene, I've seen you around at work. My brother borrowed my car and lost the jack and lug wrench. Do you have those tools?" He said, "My mother calls me OCD all the time. I've got a whole tool kit in my trunk. I'll have you ready to roll in no time." He opened up the trunk of his Toyota and got out a four way lug wrench, a small floor jack and a piece of Astroturf to save his pants. He set a small amber blinking flashlight on the side of the car to warn other motorists. He put the Astroturf down and rolled the floor jack under the vehicle. In no time he had fetched the spare from the trunk, got the flat tire off and put the spare on. He placed the flat tire in her trunk and shut the trunk lid down. He retrieved the jack, grabbed his tools and put them back in his trunk. He warned her, "Those spares are good for 50 mph top speed and only fifty miles duration. Good luck." She offered to pay him, but he refused.
She said, "I want to text you, what's your number?" He gave her the number. They both got in their cars and put their blinkers on, to try to get back in traffic, for all the good it did. She texted him, 'UR my hero'. He grinned, 'your drowned nerd hero thanks you' 'why did U stop- U ruined ur nite' 'ur soft brn eyes and tears' . She called him and he answered. "You really stopped and helped for my brown eyes and tears?" He said, "Yep, I'm a romantic fool. That's why I'm home every night, writing another romantic novel, instead of learning about it firsthand from a live girl." "You write romance?" "Yeah, I tap at my laptop every night and meet with other wordsmiths on Wednesday nights to learn how to be more proficient at it. It's Nerd city: Jeopardy, Star Trek, Sci-Fi, electronics galore, you wouldn't understand." She said, "You might be surprised, I kick major bootie on Jeopardy, and I assemble my own computers." He said, "Wow, I'm impressed. Do you buy off Neo Egg, out of silicon valley?" She said, "It's New Egg, and yes, I do after I check prices. Did I pass the test?" He said, "There's a lot of 'Nerd wannabes' around, one can't be too careful." She chuckled, "I don't think so."
YOU ARE READING
THE PAINT POT
RomanceFIXING A FLAT TIRE FOR A LADY IN THE RAIN. HER SOFT BROWN EYES ARE CRYING FOR HELP. HE DOESN'T THINK SHE CARES, HE COULDN'T BE MORE WRONG. WORLDS AND LIVES HANG ON EVENTS LIKE THIS.
