The Funeral – A short story
It has been said that the sex you have after going to a funeral is always the best sex. Maybe because we lose our feeling of immortality, maybe a desire to be wanted, to be held. I don’t know.
I had left an appointment Tuesday afternoon, and was headed back to my hotel to get some work done on another project, when my rental car just stopped. I was fortunate to have coasted off the edge of the road and out of the traffic, but it was not going any further. I have two mid-1950s Chevy street rods back home, which I rebuilt on my own. However, getting a 2016 Dodge Challenger running again was beyond my capabilities – way too much computer stuff in these cars. I called the rental car company, explained the problem and was told they would have another car at my hotel later in the day. Only about a mile from my hotel, I grabbed my briefcase and started walking.
I had only walked a few feet from my car when a nice, older Mercedes coupe went by, then stopped and backed up. Asking if I needed a ride, I told her I was headed to the Hilton about a mile up the street, and would appreciate a ride there.