George was her first real boyfriend. Desperate to be in love, he happened to come along at the right place and time—a drunken house-party. They were complete opposites. He was a rocker, and she a preppy. She slowly acclimatized and even started to like hanging out in the McDonald’s parking lot blaring Whitesnake from the Camaro.
She retired Ralph Lauren for a white leather fringe jacket. She had hoped he was a poet in-the-making but when, on her birthday, he wrote a card that read
Happy Birthday Angle, her spelling elitism got the better of her, and it ended.
Inspired by Cat’s Eye, Photo from CarGurus.
No comments:
Post a Comment