8.2 Seconds

They say it takes 8.2 seconds for a guy to fall in love, and I’m sure that they were thinkin’ about moments like this when them guys did their researchin’ and studyin’ of the topic of love. And I was in love. I knew that this was just another jam on the highway – every damn Monday like this – but I guess the stars aligned or somethin’ and I got a glimpse of her. It was a nice way to start off’n the day.

Maybe it was romantic, even. Maybe it was somethin’ that had to happen because I had been alone for so long and the good Lord looked down and said, “Well, it’s your turn, Roy.” Ain’t ever been much of a prayin’ man or a church-goin’ one, but that was what I had in mind as the traffic stopped, I punched the steerin’ wheel and dice on my rearview mirror and wondered why I still bothered with this highway. But the 504 was on my side that day. She was, too, if’n I think about it.

8.2 seconds… I must have stared a lot longer than that because people began to notice. Some joker tried honkin’ me in the middle of all this and he got my middle digit for a present. Where was I goin’ to go, anyway? Take the dirt on the side as a short cut (completely cut off from it by a semi)? I started to think about the time and the heat in the car, along with the fact that I had not refilled up to the limit the night before, but that seemed like it was too far away.

Listen, I know that it was only a minute in that jam (even timed it myself). That may not give anyone time to fall in love and figger that you just saw the love of your life, but what can I say? I was smitten. Those curves were takin’ the breath out of me, and the colours in her features were hotter’n anythin’ I could imagine idling on a public road.

So, whatchu think I was talkin’ about? Ain’t no girl I could see in there, anyway. All those windows were blacked up, and I guess the driver didn’t feel no heat, but they were rolled up, too. I was using my imagination and the AC to get through it, but I never got out of the vehicle like they say I did. I just stared and stared, and…

8.2. seconds…

They said the motorcycle was going almost that fast an hour when I stepped out of the car. Not even sure why I did it, but I just had to see it up close. Not a single thing moving, but there was that gap between us and I kept staring.

Was it worth it?

Well, they say it was a damn miracle I ain’t dead, so that's somethin’. Got out and stood there for a minute like an ass and got hit and I’m still here, sharin’ a hospital room with you, your pretty face, and that damn motorkid who hit me. Nice guy, when he can speak without begging for the painkiller (out like a pilot light on an old stove). They say he’s okay, too, but he’s gonna have some problems with the police. So sad… Guess he should have been payin’ more attention to the road. Guess’n I should have loved it from a distance. Maybe all I needed was the 8.2 and not the 60, get it? Ha, ha...

Never even met the driver. Sad.

Ah, well, that’s what they say about love, right? Ain’t never a smooth ride.

Night, night…

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