© 2012 Aaron Atkinson


We’re wheeling and dealing on Laura’s new car. As our salesman evaluates her Honda for trade-in, he pulls out a sheet with the details on her Civic.

Sammy: Name on the car?

Laura: Laura Atkinson.

Sammy: And it’s a Honda Civic… year?

Laura: 2002 LE.

Sammy: Miles?

Laura: 139,000.

Sammy: And it’s a four cylinder automatic, how about…

Laura: Wait. No. It’s a manual.

Sammy: A manual?

Laura: Yes.

He looks up. Puts down his pen. And for the first time since we started working together he smiles and his eyes twinkle with delight.

Sammy: You drive a manual? We’ve got guys that have been working here for 20 years that can’t drive a manual. I’ve got to tell you. I’m impressed.

Laura: Only car I’ve ever owned. Cut my driving teeth on that stick.

Sammy: Goodness me. That’s how I learned too, back in Qatar. You sure don’t see many young women like you who know how to drive a stick.

He goes back to his form, beaming.

She’s beaming too.

Right before my eyes, they’ve had a moment.


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