I didn't even get her phone number...

Today I pulled into the parking lot of a local grocery store when, no sooner than I got out of my car, I heard a young lady in the sweetest, slightly-southern accent ask, "Would you, by any chance, be able to help me jump start my car?"

I looked over my shoulder to see the cutest face smiling at me from the window of the car beside me. In the passenger seat of her car was one of her friends. I noticed she was wearing a t-shirt emblazoned with the mascot of my university.

College girls. Nice.

The driver-in-need had the most flawless chocolatey skin to go with her perfect, genuinely warm smile. Needless to say I was more than happy to oblige.

Know this: I am a man's man. When I am not eating meat, or axing lumber, or tossing cinder blocks from one pile to the next, I am jump starting cars. That's just what I do.

Feeling particularly sure of myself I immediately popped the hood of my car before lifting the hood of hers. She handed me the cables which I expertly attached to my and her batteries. I started my car and let it run for a few minutes allowing her battery ample time to charge.

Now the moment of truth. She, still standing in front of her car watching the mechanic-in-shining-armor bring life to her car, handed me the keys. I put the key in the ignition and give it a confident turn.

CLICK!

Nothing.

Being the Man that I am, I knew that I just needed more time to allow her battery to charge.

Three minutes later I tried again.

CLICK!

Nothing.

And again.

CLICK!

Nothing!

At this point I began to get nervous. I am a man. I make cars start. Surely this car is testing me.

I decided to try the heavy-duty cables I had stashed in my trunk. The cables the damsel-in-distress provided looked to have been manufactured by Fisher-Price or Mattel.

Reconnecting the two cars, I repeated the process.

CLICK!


CLICK!


CLICK!

Nothing.

What is going on? Where did I go wrong? What have I done?

Was it the time in freshman year that I decided to shave my chest? Or maybe it was the time I let my ex-girlfriend paint my toenails. This cannot be happening to me.

Equal parts bewildered and dejected, I disconnected the cables, let down the hoods, and reached into my car to turn off the ignition.

I dug into my pocket, prepared to use my final lifeline: Phone-A-Friend. I could easily call my friend to bring a spare battery.

Just as I fished out the phone I hear the girl's sweet southern accent ask, "Now?"

"What is she talking about?", I wondered.

She jumped into her car to turn the ignition and I thought to myself, "This poor girl has no idea what she is doing."

Just as I finished my thought the young lady let out the most joyous shriek as her engine roared to life.

"OH MY GOODNESS! YOU DID IT! THANK YOU SOOOO MUCH!" she screamed at me; her and her friend were ecstatic!

Having no idea what just happened I simply smiled bashfully.

"I'll wait with you for a few minutes to make sure everything is OK" I suggested.

She repeatedly expresses her gratitude as we made small talk for the next two or three minutes before she finally remembered that she needed to drive her friend home. She gave me one final "Thank You!" and a hug before driving off.

And there I was, sitting in the parking lot for ten minutes thinking about that smile.

Thinking that I didn't even get her phone number.

Comments

Awww I loved this story, so cute and yeah you should have gotten it but hey maybe you will run into her again sometime.
 
I hope you run into her again and you have the chance to say that you were so taken by her that you totally forgot to ask for her number.... but would love to take her out for lunch or something one day ~~ :D

good luck
 

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LookingCurious
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