Vacation Fiction Day 4 -- You're Beautiful - James Blunt

When you reach my age, you start keeping track of the gas left in the tank, and you keep track of how long you have before needing the bathroom. I was driving I-65 north at 0-dark-30, and both were starting to hit the warning signs. Just as I passed the sign saying "Exit 57 return ramp is closed", the radio started playing "You're Beautiful". Great, my prostate's trying to do a fandango on my bladder, the next gas station is miles down the road, and I get to hear Mr. Millenial whine because he saw a pretty girl while stoned out of his head, and how they had a cosmic connection for five minutes. I almost threw up my Baconator.

Finally, there's a gas station, and I can pull in. Gas first, bathroom second. Yes, it was a mistake, but it sounded good at the time. I'm hurrying to pull up the mask and turning the corner to the bathrooms, barely noticing that there's no one in my way. After a few minutes in the restroom, I stop by the water cooler for another bottle, and the candy bin for cherry slices or orange slices. Then I look up.

I think I owe the idiot Blunt an apology. I looked up into the kindest, most gentle pair of eyes I have ever seen, and she smiled kindly to me. I couldn't tell you her name, what color her eyes were, or what she was wearing. I don't even know what city we were in. At that moment, all I could think is "Boy, she is beautiful.".

Then I paid my bill, told her "Thank you", and drove off into the night.