Me: Frazzled Mom, carrying a jumble of bags, a kid and baby in tow, buckling the carseat, folding the stroller into the trunk, passing out snacks. You: Eager Brunette, honking ardently as encouragement to leave my parking space at a pace better suited to your schedule.
We made long, meaningful eye contact while I climbed in my seat and loaded a map, again as I queued up a podcast, and several times as I answered some personal email, then drummed my fingers absentmindedly on the steering wheel. Then, so suddenly, you were gone.
Let’s grab drinks, restless stranger. I’d love to hear how the rest of your day went.
Parking lot dandelions street art by Roadsworth.