The Car Keys

I woke up in time to see her step off the train. Then I noticed her car keys on the seat next to mine.

About an hour earlier, when she first sat next to me, I blushed. She was that intoxicating. Any attempt at conversation would have been futile. I most likely would have spit in her eye in an effort to get the words out. Or else I would have poked her in the breast in my awkward attempt at a handshake. So, to avoid any possibility of an arrest on assault charges, I closed my eyes and dozed off.

When I woke and saw the keys, I made a dash for the door and made it off the train just in time. The doors closed behind me and I watched as the train pulled away. The gentleman who was sitting behind me banged on the window and pointed to the luggage rack, upon which rested my briefcase, overcoat, and suit jacket. The man then mimicked that he would rescue my things and return them to me in the morning. The man’s name was Bill. He was a neighbor of mine and an excellent charades partner. He and his girlfriend had been to my apartment many times. They both drank more than their fair share, which made for good company. Because none of us could ever remember what happened the night before. As a result, we never seemed to tire of each other.

I then looked down at the Volvo car keys I had in my possession and remembered the reason I left the train in the first place. I yelled to the intoxicating beauty as she made her way down the platform stairs.

“Miss!” I yelled. “Your keys!”

I held the keys up and jiggled them.

She turned and looked at me. Then she rummaged through her purse. She held up a pair of keys and gave them a little jiggle of her own.

“Not mine!” she yelled. “Thanks, anyway!”

I again looked down at the keys in my possession and remembered that Bill drove a Volvo. I also remembered that Bill had sat next to me for a few minutes before leaving to go to the lavatory. When he came back and saw the beauty in his seat he simply gave me a knowing wink and took the seat behind me.

I decided to take a cab to the next station. Bill would no doubt be waiting at the station tavern. And my having his car keys was going to be a great excuse for him getting home late with beer breath. We’d surely have a good laugh over this. But when I reached for my wallet I realized I must have left it in my suit jacket along with my phone. Now I was officially stranded and cold. ‘Nipply cold,’ as Bill would say.

“You Okay?” I heard a voice say. “You look confused.”

It was the intoxicating lady from the train. I blushed and tried not to drool as I fought for the words to come. She was behind the wheel of a 1965 Mustang convertible. The top was up, of course, it being the middle of January. I immediately thought how great it would be to be dating this woman come summertime. I would make a valiant effort at being cool. But I didn’t get my hopes up.

“I left everything on the train,” I said, “when I came running after you. I thought you left your keys behind.”

“How sweet was that,” she said. “I didn’t mean to cause you so much trouble, bud. Hop in. I’ll give you a lift.”

“Thanks,” I said. “I’m just going to the next station.”

“You must be freezing,” she said. “It’ll take a few minutes for the heat to come up in this old car. Nice high beams, by the way.”

I didn’t get the joke until I noticed she was staring at my nipples.

“A man who blushes,” she said, “is a man who never rushes. At least that’s what my mom always told me. You don’t rush things do you? Because I carry mace, brace knuckles, a billy club, and a can of whipped cream.”

“Whipped cream?” I said.

“In case it turns out I like the guy,” she said. “I like being prepared.”

I must have turned beet red, because she thought I was having a heart attack.

“Oh my God!” she said. “Are you all right? Should I call 911?”

“No, no.” I said. “I’m quite all right. I just can’t help getting flustered over just about every woman I happen to meet. It’s a curse.”

“No need to get flustered around me,” she said. “I was joking. It’s not like I was thinking of using the whipped cream here in the car or anything. I’d be perfectly happy to wait until we got a room.”

When I made no reply, she told me to put my head between my legs and take a couple of deep breathes.

“For crying out loud,” she said, “I’m kidding. I’m simply giving you a ride. You need to chill out.”

“I’m feeling much better now,” I said. “And I really do appreciate the ride.”

“Ride, huh?” she said. “How do want to do this? Do you like the slow and easy ride? Or are you the fast and furious type who wants to get this over with as quick as possible?”

“What?” I said. “I, um, I um—“

“What are you stuttering about?” she said. “I only want to know if you’re in a hurry or not. That’s all.”

“Oh,” I said. “No particular hurry. I’m meeting a friend at the station tavern in Garrison.”

“Happy to oblige,” she said. “One good turn deserves another.”

“I appreciate it,” I said. “What’s your name, by the way?”

“Whoa, horsey!” she said. “You got to slow it down a little bit, buddy! First thing you know, I give you my name and the next day you’re stalking me up and down Main Street trying to score a babe with a Mustang convertible.”

“I’m terribly sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean to speak out of turn. This is why I never talk to women. I’m no good at it.”

“Really?” she said.

“Really,” I said.

“You want me to show you how to be good at it?” she said.

“What?” I said.

“I have a technique,” she said.

She pulled up to the Garrison station tavern and told me to face her and close my eyes. A moment later I felt her lips on mine. It was a warm and lingering kiss, along with a groin massage that would have caused me some embarrassment had I been standing.

“Keep your eyes closed,” she said, “and count to ten.”

I did as asked. When I opened my eyes she was gone. The driver-side door was open and she was nowhere in sight. When I looked down at my lap to estimate the seriousness of my pup tent, I noticed the wallet. It was my wallet. The one that was in my suit jacket. It was empty, of course. She even took my condoms.

Next thing I know I’m hearing police sirens and in no time at all I’m surrounded by police officers with drawn pistols.

“That’s him!” said a man’s voice as I stepped out of the Mustang. "I see him on the train every day. He must have been sizing me up.”

There was much laughter as I turned to face the police with my hands in the air. Such is the power of a lingering kiss.

I eventually cleared my name, but I never did see that woman, or my car, again. Yeah, she had my car keys, too - But I’m hoping. I even keep a fresh can of whipped cream on hand. Just in case.