Sunday Writing Prompt — The Origin Story

“The afternoon was an hilarious experience. It all began when I was driving along a country road that hot summer day and came across a woman standing on the side of the road next to her car, an old, white Triumph Spitfire. The car’s hood was up, steam was billowing out from the engine compartment, and she was crying hysterically.”

“I wasn’t hysterical,” Monica interrupted me. “I was just frustrated and upset.”

“Whatever. To continue my story, I turned my car around, pulled up behind hers, got out, and walked up to where she was standing, ‘I see you’re in a tough situation. Looks like you have a problem with your car’s radiator,’ I said.”

Interrupting me again, Monica sarcastically said, “You’re always the master of the obvious.”

Unfazed, I continued. “I thought she would have been grateful to see someone stop to assist her, but she snapped at me, saying, ‘No shit, Sherlock.’ She gave me a rather nasty look and said, ‘Are you capable of fixing this or are you just going to stand there gawking at me?’”

“Yeah, I was pretty hot back then,” Monica interrupted yet again.

“I actually hadn’t realized that I was staring at you, but you were wearing a tank top and very short shorts, and your skin was glistening with perspiration,” I said. I continued telling my story. “I’m sure I turned red and diverted my eyes, but I have to admit that she was stunning. ‘Unfortunately I don’t know how to fix your car’s radiator, but I what I can do is use my cellphone to call for a tow.’ I told her.”

“You still don’t know shit about cars,” Monica said, gently jabbing me in my side with her elbow.

Ignoring her, I continued. “She held up her own cellphone and shoved it my way. ‘We’re out here in the boonies, asshole. No cell service.’ I checked my cellphone and she was right. No service.”

“I’m always right,” Monica said.

“So I told her that I had passed a small town about 20 miles back where I had filled up my gas tank. ‘What I am capable of doing is driving us back there so we can arrange to get your car towed. Grab your keys and any personal belongings, lock your car, and let’s get going,’ I told her.”

“You were so bossy back then before I trained you,” Monica said to me.

“Whatever you say, dear,” I said. “Anyway, she gave me a suspicious look, but she ultimately agreed to my plan. Forty minutes later we pulled up to the gas station and I arranged for a tow truck to pick up her stranded car. The tow truck guy pointed out a diner down the street, said he’d be back with her car in a few hours, and suggested that we grab a bite to eat while we waited for him to return.”

“So that’s how you and Monica met, huh?” Our friend, Katie said. I nodded and squeezed Monica’s hand.

“That’s so romantic,” Katie said. She glanced at her husband, Kenny, and said, “Why don’t we have a romantic origin story like that?”


Written for yesterday’s Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie Sunday Writing Prompt, where we are supposed to write a response using the following as a starting point: “The day/afternoon/evening was a/an hilarious/disappointing/engaging experience. It all began….”

Also for these daily prompts: Word of the Day Challenge (triumph), The Daily Spur (side), Fandango’s One-Word Challenge (hysterical), Ragtag Daily Prompt (tough), and Your Daily Word Prompt (capable).

11 thoughts on “Sunday Writing Prompt — The Origin Story

    • Fandango November 9, 2020 / 7:47 pm

      Ha! Sometimes I wonder that myself.

      Like

  1. leigha66 November 16, 2020 / 10:52 pm

    She seems rather rude to me…. how does he put up with all the interruptions? Well done Fandango!

    Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.