Square Peg

Cherly waited patiently as she nervously sipped her Starbucks coffee. She waited for a Brown Volkswagen with her cart full of groceries. As I arrived my first thoughts where standard back burner thoughts. Mother, getting off work, had to shop as I pulled into the Kroger front door area. She waved and singled to me over and over as she first spotted me long after I had visually found her. The app was right this time. Her little blue icon was dead on as I pulled up. I got out of the car, haven just did a 12 mile roller blade my legs had not been sleeping at this point like that tend to do after several hours of driving. I hoped out with out a hitch, my hair wild and shoulder length, my eyes bright and clear, the 7pm was summer over cast. "Another day and Another Dollar" was her first statement. She seemed tired but renewed artificially by caffine. Long brown hair, attractive but deffinetly built like a mother at about 30 years of age I would wager. The groceries and diappers where placed into the trunk, I tried to assist as best as possible having loaded groceries professionally over 2000 times for shopping apps that are delivered to customers. She talked about her twins and her 5 kids briefly. In no time like one quickly imagined day dream, or like a runner about to step onto a treadmill and run a quick 2 miles this time, I was down the road and heading to her destination with out much thought, my mind trained on traffic ques, constantly scanning the road as trained from my CDL-A days, looking way ahead , looking behind, looking to my sides, as I also started to dive into a deep converstaion. Cherly, as we shall call her, used to drive. " No no no, I won't drive anymore, I have a real deep PTSD from long ago. Recently I tried to drive agian thinking I was finally over it. No I wasnt over it" There was something about her that had a Price Hill way of talking but with 0 swearing and anger, it turns out she grew up not far from there as she Continued. "My dadie told ma that every life that gets into ma car, Im responsible for them." "My friends in highschool started to seperate from me as they started with drugs and drinking. But they where my friends. I didnt want to sound sqaure telling them to wear a seat belt so I ignored that. Well, we where T boned later by a Semi Truck. My two friends both died. I survived. I was wearing my seat belt." She recounted with clear eyes as if telling the painful truth that has haunted her ever since, like a new found life disablity you couldn't break but learned to live with it. Like a sports team that you cheer for but will never win with in your life time. She spoke clearly and fast as the ride was only 2 miles in the expanding suburbs but it seemed like 20 minutes as I imagined her horrowing story. "My one friend was nearly decapitated thru the front windshied, my friend in the back broke her neck and was also dead. They had to use the jaws of life to get me out of the car. Was up in a tree. The truck had his brakes fail. Do you know of Guest road? Well (semi) trucks are no longer allowed to drive on that road after that" When I tired to drive recently, I had a man cut me off. The next thing I knew, I was rubbing my face for blood, and smelling burnt rubber, there was a man tapping on my window as I sat in an intersection. (are you alright? Are you OK? ) PTSD, yeah, its real. I don't know how I got into the intersection or how long I had been there but that was it, IM DONE DRIVING!" There was no blood or accident recently but the event of a selfish driver who was hurriying home to watch netflix and expand the belly had no idea the driver who he had just cut off. That event sent her back in time to relive her broken driving dreams. Of not wanting to be a square peg in a round hole of popularity. After that story she double checked her seat belt. "If I hadnt worn that seat belt I had been dead as well." We pulled into a nice medium house, with nice well kept landscape. Two cars. "Dont worry my husband will help" I ignored her and with two loads we had the supplies to her front door. " I prefer to tip in cash" she gave me a nice 5 dollar bill in todays world is a big tip. I thanked her warmly and left to pick of Sholoa. Quickly cataloging the coversation and like a seasoned runner after the short break jumping back onto my treadmill for this time a 6 mile run.