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.