Tale of two Milans
This was the kind of thing which God pulls on me from time to time, I think, just to let me know that He is still in control. I imagining Him winking at me, and saying: Did you see what I did there? Hehe.
Tuesday morning I was annoyed that the passenger side windshield wiper rubber on my Mercury Milan lease car was flapping around loose. And it was raining that day. At least it wasn't the driver's side, I thought.
On the way home, I stopped by Murray's Auto Parts on 8 Mile Road, and pulled into the 2nd closest spot. In the first spot was another black Mercury Milan. Cute, I thought ... twins!
So, I get out of the car, and I'm trying to get my brain in gear, figuring out how to take the wiper blade off the arm. As I'm trying to do this (without bringing shame on Mechanical Engineers everywhere), an elderly black gentleman, walking with a cane, comes out of the front door of Murray's.
He heads toward the other black Milan. He is carrying a single windshield wiper blade. For the passenger side wiper. I look at his passenger side wiper arm, and it is a bare stalk.
We are twins! Here is this lovely old gentleman, a probable Obama voter, and myself, and God has put us into the same exact predicament at the same exact time. It is so uncanny, like the two ladies on the bus in Flannery O'Connor's story, Everything that Rises Must Converge. I have converged with this man, and my first instinct is to hug him. But I do not. Instead, I ask to see his blade. I get the brand name and the length (19"), to save time when I go into Murray's. We chuckle over the coincidence. The youngster (even from my perspective) from Murray's who came out to help the old man gets a chuckle too.
The old man doesn't need any help. He clicks the new blade on and slowly walks around to the driver's side door.
I go into Murray's.
Tuesday morning I was annoyed that the passenger side windshield wiper rubber on my Mercury Milan lease car was flapping around loose. And it was raining that day. At least it wasn't the driver's side, I thought.
On the way home, I stopped by Murray's Auto Parts on 8 Mile Road, and pulled into the 2nd closest spot. In the first spot was another black Mercury Milan. Cute, I thought ... twins!
So, I get out of the car, and I'm trying to get my brain in gear, figuring out how to take the wiper blade off the arm. As I'm trying to do this (without bringing shame on Mechanical Engineers everywhere), an elderly black gentleman, walking with a cane, comes out of the front door of Murray's.
He heads toward the other black Milan. He is carrying a single windshield wiper blade. For the passenger side wiper. I look at his passenger side wiper arm, and it is a bare stalk.
We are twins! Here is this lovely old gentleman, a probable Obama voter, and myself, and God has put us into the same exact predicament at the same exact time. It is so uncanny, like the two ladies on the bus in Flannery O'Connor's story, Everything that Rises Must Converge. I have converged with this man, and my first instinct is to hug him. But I do not. Instead, I ask to see his blade. I get the brand name and the length (19"), to save time when I go into Murray's. We chuckle over the coincidence. The youngster (even from my perspective) from Murray's who came out to help the old man gets a chuckle too.
The old man doesn't need any help. He clicks the new blade on and slowly walks around to the driver's side door.
I go into Murray's.