Toll Booth Roulette

Well, Sony won't let me embed this song, but they'll let me link to it. And here's the one line I keep singing:

"Cause I gotta have faith...faith, faith,faith...."

You can sing along too if you want. And who can resist George Michael's 80s ass?

So....I gave UP Wednesday morning trying to "decide" which lane Toll Booth Guy would be in. For those of you playing along with the board game at home, move my car ahead 9 spaces...it was 9 working days since I'd handed him that lottery ticket.

AND THEN...I must've drawn a wild card from the Full Moon Fever of Fate, because I landed right in his lane!

I was beside myself with shock. I was literally sitting in the passenger seat looking at myself in the driver's seat and saying, "Can you freaking believe this!?"

I was all thumbs, turning the radio up when I wanted to turn it down, putting on the 4WD lock when I meant to put on the hazard lights. Putting the gear in reverse for a moment when I meant to put it in park. I had to actually think to myself: GET_IT_TOGETHER!

And then, I couldn't have written the dialogue better in my head...

Him...."Heeey how are you!? Where've you been?"
Me...."Me? I was sure YOU'D gone off with those millions."
Him...."Awww no way, I'd come back and get you."

Cars are already beeping behind me and flashing their lights, which is earlier than normal; usually people give us a few moments reprieve. Come on, can't they see I have my hazard lights flashing!?

WTF, these people actually WANT to get to work?

Can't they see this toll booth guy is grinning ear to ear? When do they EVER see that? Isn't that what New Yawkers and New Joisyans pay taxes for? To see someone SMILE once in awhile? Oh....that's right I forgot where I was for a moment. New Yawkers don't smile. And they sure as shit don't want to see anyone else smiling.

Anyway, where was I?

Oh yeah, SMILING...I was smiling!
And the moon was full.
He was grinning.
And I was giving myself a pep talk:

~Muster up the balls GIRL and bloody ask him!~

Me...."So, I just have to ask..."
Him...."Yes?"
Me...."Are you married....or engaged...?"

The look of surprise was priceless. Martin Scorsese would have been pleased.

Him...."No no I'm not married. I have a son...but he's -- well how old do you think I am?"

Me....quite perplexed he's bringing up his son and his age because, why.....exactly? "Ummm, I don't know....late 30s, early 40s?"
Him...."I'm 46..."

It dawns on me like buttah....he thinks I'm much younger. Gotta set that straight and hurry because isn't that a New Yawker getting out of his car behind me with a Yankers bat in his hands coming to smash in my Red Sox automobile's tailights?

Me...."So? I'm 39..."
Him...."No way....really?"
Me...."Yeah....so, we should hang out sometime...."

That's right, me, casual...keeping it casual.

Him...."Definitely, I'd like that. Give me your number..."

Yes! Jackpot!

Me...."You have it...."
Him...."Noooo, you never gave it to me, did you?"

At this point he looked so confused I could've given him a hug.

Me...."Well sort of...it was on the back of the lottery ticket."
Him....giving himself a good old facepalm to the forehead...."D'oh! Really?"

He scrambles for a piece of paper and pen, hands it to me and I swear I have no recollection of what number I wrote down. I hope to freaking god I put the right number. I know I got the area code.

Me....grinning, handing it back to him, hearing myself say...."I better go before these people beat us..."

Him...."OK I'll definitely call you sweetheart..."

I accomplished something. I feel good about that. Of course, now he has to call. Let's hope my Toll Booth Guy doesn't become Tool Booth Guy.