Milk Shake

It was autumn 1999 and I was sitting in the passenger's seat in my car, a minty green Volkswagen Golf. It was parked outside my boyfriend's* house and he was sitting in the driver's seat. Even if it was my car I didn't mind letting him drive it when we were together. We had only just recently started going out, so it was a time of sweaty palms, butterflies in tummies, weak knees, trying to impress one another, and so forth.

He had just treated us to some milk shakes, I don't remember the flavors, but if I were to guess, I'd say he had strawberry and I had either chocolate or pineapple. We were going to his place to watch a video** I think. So he gets out of the car and I step out as well, and my car had one of those buttons you had to push down in order to lock the door, so I, in my infinite wisdom, instead of using, say, my finger to push the button down, I slam the bottom of my shake on the button, being all cool and stuff. Except I was not, because the milk shake came in one of those Styrofoam cups and of course the button pierced the bottom of the shake and my chocolate or pineapple shake just poured out of that little hole down the side of the inside of the car door.

The moment I did it, I knew how stupid it was. I looked at my boyfriend and he just laughed at me/with me, took the button out of the car door and cleaned the whole mess up. I thought for sure he'd think I was this major blondie now and probably dump me for being such a clumsy girl.

Luckily for me he didn't, and now I often refer to the Milk Shake incidence when I do something silly, as in ''you knew what you were getting when you married me'' sort of thing.


*my husband
**1999 and video, my god how old am I?