In Which She Threw Her Judgements Out the Window and Enjoyed the Ride

Shortly after Jeff and I started dating, we were driving down the road and spotted a guy in a Porsche.  "What do you think of those?" asked Jeff.

"What, the Porsche? Gross."

"Why? What do you mean?"

"Oh, you know, I don't know, I just always think of guys in Porsches as old dudes having midlife crises, or cheesy guys trying to compensate for something."

"Like what?"

"Um, you know, short man's complex, small penis, whatever."

"Really?  What if I drove one?  Would you be embarrassed to ride with me?"

"Um, Yes!  They're so cheesy and lame!  They're so cliched, it's ridiculous!  Whenever I see a guy in a Porsche I assume he's an arrogant asshole who's trying to cover up some insecurity!"

"Well, what about the older ones, like the 80s ones?"

"Gross, those are the worst of all!  It's a guy in a white leisure suit and wrap-around shades, with some dumb vanity plate that says 'Smokin'' or 'So cool.'"

Do you see how he led me into this trap?  How he asked me those loaded questions, so that three weeks later when I visited his parents' house for the first time and saw in the driveway not one but two, yes: two Porsches, one shiny new one and one that was smack dab out of the mid-80s, can you see how I could feel a little bit like sticking my foot in my mouth? 

Evil. Just evil. 

I was reminded of this lovely milestone in our relationship the other night when he, Eric, Mike, and I piled into the 80s Porsche to go get some dinner.  He's borrowing it while his car is getting some routine maintenance. And I have to admit.  It was fun, DESPITE that while in the front seat my life continuously flashed before my eyes the whole time, since Jeff was pealing around on the street like a cheetah out of hell, and on the return trip I sat in the back seat with Eric, a seat that was so tiny even my tiny butt didn't fit all the way back in it, and my head now rests at a permanent ninety-degree angle on my neck. But anyway, no, I have to admit: it's really, really, cute, yet also masculine, just like Jeff — heehee!  And riding in it is fun, especially when we blast 80s tunes and wear sunglasses at night. 

80sPorsche.jpg

So I can change my mind, and admit when I'm wrong and have wrongly judged a person, place, or car.  See?  Live and learn, my friends. Live and learn.

Oh, and P.S. Now they have three.

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