I didn't even tell you the best part of Korean Camp. My friend Rachel drove over with her little man Josiah. We've been trying to meet in the reals for a couple of years and it finally happened!
It's always so weird and humbling when someone is willing to make an effort to come and hang with me...when they only know me from my blog. I always get that little panic of what will happen when they realize I'm as weird as I say I am??
Josiah has reminded me of Calvin from the moment I saw him. It was fitting that the two of them finally meet, and extra-fitting that they met in the quasi-framework of Korean Camp.
It took them a while to warm up and Si was a bit (understandably) concerned about our sketchster hotel room, but before long they were eating dried seaweed like old war buddies.
They bonded in the pool.
They did a little light reading...
I mean, just look how lucky we are.
Also - Rachel and I clicked immediately. LOVE that!
We had tried to hit up the MSU Dairy Store earlier in the day and the line was out of the building.
So after dinner, we tried again. The line was longish, but shorter than it had been.
We waited and waited and just when I was up to the counter, checking out all the goods, a young girl rushes up to us and says, "Does one of you drive a white mini van?"
"Uh, if you're referring to the white mini van rocking one hubcap, then yes." (I didn't really say that, but I could have...)
What I was thinking was, "Crap. What did my van do?"
So for real.
I keep reflecting on why that was my internal reaction. I mean, what could my van possibly have done? On its own? I have developed a strange guilt complex. I think I have a good handle on its roots, but it's too late in the day to go into it. I have salsa waiting.
So anyway, the girl nervously explains that she hit the white van, but "there are no dents, just a little scratch I'm so sorry, so sorry, I'm so super sorry, there's no dent at all, just a scratch and I'm so sorry!"
She was certifiably wigging a little.
I thought about walking out to assess, but come on, I was finally to the counter! There was toffee and mocha to contend with!
So I told her it was okay, no biggie. She teared up and went on her way, muttering "so sorry"s on her way out.
Rachel and I applauded her for doing the right thing and coming in to fess up.
Long story not short enough: Considerable dent. Like, basketball sized dent.
(And a little scratch.)
I'm choosing to believe that somehow, the light caught the van at a hospitable angle and she really didn't see the dent.
But regardless, if you're going to bang up a van, it might as well be my van and it might as well be me. The stars were oddly aligned for her that evening. Plus, she'd probably just had ice cream.
I was awash in the truth that this is just one of the reasons we don't put too much stock in our things. Of course it's good to take care of them and there's nothing wrong with making an insurance company pay up, but it wasn't the end of the world. We'll just go ahead and rock this dent.
Our van is so street.
What we didn't know then is that his body was in the process of tanking.
Hindsight = 20/20
He told me several times that night and in coming days that he missed his new friend.
He also said, "Josiah is a very well-spoken little guy."
(Pot, meet kettle.)
Three cheers for blogging!