This is a tough blog to post — but I feel that it’s something that must be disclosed. I’m a bit ashamed that we actually did this, but also that this was something creepy which involved the whole family. This will probably lose us many cool points, and most likely many of you will be freaked out.
We have a car with a personalized license plate. We got it in 2003 when we got this specific vehicle; after all, in Virginia it really isn’t much more to get one of ‘em. And we decided on using a phrase that makes sense to us and our closes friends. People ask us about it often. But I think it’s pretty unique.
I’m not quite ready to disclose what phrase it is exactly. But for dramatization purposes — this is our car:
We had a wonderful weekend — with our first trip to Great Falls, VA this year. Great place to go, especially for the kid. Lots of waterfalls and rock climbing and hiking. And we ended the evening with a trip to one of our favorite locally-owned diners for a quick bite.
We’re making conversation on the way home when socKs just gestures wildly towards the windshield. She’s too excited to speak. She just stammers a bit, waves her finger, and exclaims “Car!”
It took me a second, but I saw what she meant: in the next lane over and two car-lengths ahead, there was a car with a very similar license plate. I tried to get a picture with my phone, but I wasn’t able to.
And instinctively, safe ol’ friendly, non-threatening Shiny asks a question: “Should we follow it?”
I was kidding, of course. I mean, we were supposed to turn at the next light, and the car had moved into the right lane. At least I was hoping that the car would turn and we could get a closer view and a better picture of it. Alas, the car didn’t turn at the street which would lead us to our home.
So I didn’t turn. And didn’t get any argument from socKs. At that moment, I was officially stalking another person for the sole reason that s/he was driving a car with a similar license plate.
We saw the car turn into the supermarket parking lot at the next block. So we turned in there as well. We were going to head to the store the next day — to get ingredients to make hamentaschen. But we decided that we would go to the store right there and then instead. After all, we needed the ingredients anyway, right?
Oh, who am I kidding? We were following a complete stranger into a parking lot. That ain’t right.
I parked our car across from hers in what was (thankfully for her, I’m assuming she thought) a relatively crowded parking lot. I got out of the car and yelled an “Excuse me!” after her. She turned around as the rest of my family got out of our vehicle, hopefully making her feel less like I had duct tape and ether in my car. “I couldn’t help but notice your plates — so similar to ours — what do they mean?”
She saw our plates and smiled. She even let me take a picture of hers:
“What does yours mean?” we asked. She told us it was “Talk Out” at one point. Like “Let’s talk it out.” But since she got the new plates with the pink breast cancer ribbon icon on them, she had to sacrifice a letter. Hence — “TAKOUT.” So similar to ours! We lied and marveled at the coincidence that both she and we were heading to the same store at the same time with such similar license plates! How utterly, utterly sad that this wasn’t the truth at all.
But it made us happy. We felt accomplished in our goal. We took a picture so our family and friends would be able to experience it as we did. It felt like something special, something unique. A feeling of bonding between two drivers, so different yet so alike.
socKs says we should untie her and let her out of our laundry room this week. We’ll see…
