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Chapter One:
The Perfect Babe

Installment One
Installment Two
Installment Three
Installment Four

Chapter Two:
The Fairness of Life

Installment Five
Installment Six
Installment Seven
Installment Eight
Installment Nine

Readers React
to Lefty's Story


 

An original work of fiction
by Lefty

Installment 8

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STANDARD DISCLAIMER: The following is based on a true story. It is at least as true as any current Made-for-TV movie now being shown. All names have been changed to protect any affected party. Some names have been changed several times. The author reserves the right for any vaguely autobiographical portion of the following to reflect more positively on his persona than would otherwise be true in reality. Please cut some slack to any recognized person, place or thing, however fictionalized it may be. END DISCLAIMER
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This is the eigth of Lefty's continuing saga. You may want to read the first installment to give you some idea of the trials and tribulations leading up to the current dilemna.

Dating in the 90s:Parity Error
Chapter 2: The Fairness of Life, Installment 8

Public Parking

We arrive at a public parking lot and Leah heads in to a meter. Leah has a very nice car, but sitting in the low slung seats is starting to make my back ache. I open my door slightly and struggle to get out. Leah gets out the driver's side right away. I'm glad she didn't wait for me to open her door, because the way I'm getting out it would have been a long time before I could get over there. I knew I was hitting those tennis balls too darn hard.

Finally I kind of lurch to the side and plop out the door. Unfortunately the door scrapes slightly on the side of the car parked right next to ours. As I start standing up, I hear movement in that car.

"Hey, what do you think you're doing?", I hear from about two inches from my right ear. I look to my right quickly and discover a couple sitting in the car. They had probably been necking and listening to me getting out of the car for the last 50 seconds. How come this guy didn't know what I'm doing? "I'm getting out of the frigging car!", I say in my mind. But realizing that I had just scraped his car, that sarcastic responses are not going to lessen any tensions, and that this guy could very well be big, I say out loud, "Sorry about that. We must have parked too close."

This guy is far too sensible to take "sorry" for an answer. Besides, there is a girl in his car he must impress. He looks like he's just past his teens and his car is in fairly good condition--until I came along.

"'Sorry'? You damage my car and that's all you say?", he quizes me aggressively as he gets out of his car.

Leah comes up from behind her car and stands behind me. "Let's go", she says. "Don't talk to this asshole anymore."

I feel the situation is deteriorating rapidly. Somehow this is my fault. I did open my door too far. I knew my bad back was going to put me into the hospital one day. I just didn't realize how. I try to de-escalate.

"Listen, I didn't mean to bump your car, and I'm sorry, but we're going to go to dinner now."

The asshole decides that belligerency is his best policy. "You dented my car and you're going to walk away just like that?" He puts a possessive hand on his car and turns his body towards me.

Time for assessments. I glance into his car and see that his girlfriend may be taller than Leah, but she's skinny -- I'm sure Leah could take her. The asshole is bigger than me, but he couldn't have my experience. And my experience says get the heck out of here.

"Yeah, sorry... catch you later bud."

I grab Leah and start to walk away carefully. I look back and he is not following. He is bending down to look at the extensive damage on his car which is not visible to the naked eye. Leah is fuming and fussing.

"Why were you spending so much time with that guy? He was being a real asshole. We didn't do any damage to his car and he was just showboating for his girlfriend."

"Geez, Leah, I thought you were a social worker!", I say exasperatedly. "Were you using your de-escalation skills? I thought that asshole was going to swing on me when you called him an 'asshole'. Were you trying to get me decked?"

I am sweating from the tension and the adrenalin flow is making me jumpy.

Leah laughs. "I guess my New York 'tude showed. We don't take any guff like that in New York. Besides, you wouldn't have been alone if that guy had started a fight. I back up my friends and there's no way he could have taken the two of us! I would have whopped him from behind!"

Yeeesh. Here I am, thinking that Leah might not be able to whup a skinny girl, and she's thinking that she could coldcock the asshole himself. I am in loooooove!! I have never been with a woman who could be such an asset in a tight situation. Even if she was responsible for making the situation tight. I'm dying to see Leah practice her social work skills on typical juvenile delinquent situations.

 

Read the next Installment of Chapter 2


 

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