I drive a lot, and when I’m driving I listen to the radio. (I maybe don’t know how to make my iPhone make music in my car, potentially, though who’s to say, really.) This little tune from Hall and Oates has been coming up every day for about a week. It feels like mine, even though I’ve never been a rich girl.
It’s a bitch, girl, and it’s gone too far cause you know it don’t matter anyway.
Long ago and far away, my ex and I had a favorite waitress at at the Steak n Shake on Alpine. Her name tag said Ginger, but her real name was Kelly. She was so nice to us and would sometimes take her breaks when we were there and have a late night dinner with us. We got her a Christmas gift one year and l’ex kept her address in his wallet for a long time so we could invite her to our wedding. We didn’t. She ended up marrying someone from my hometown, though, and quit Steak n Shake to be a dental hygienist.
I don’t miss that life so much as I miss just being that person. The kind of person who buys waitresses Christmas presents and has such a bright heart. Like I said, long ago and far away.
