Oh, what a day…
Mid-February, back in 2002.
What a very special time for me.
I walked in to buy a car…

But I was never going to be the same.

I saw him the moment I walked into the dealership. People like to debate love at first sight.

I do not know.

What I know is that I walked in looking for a car, saw him, and apparently lost all ability to make sound automotive decisions.

He asked what I wanted. I described it.

At least, I thought I did.

Somewhere between what I said and what that beautiful man heard, I ended up buying a Dodge Caravan.

A CARAVAN.

I was twenty-eight years old. I was still trying to be cute—not preparing to transport an entire youth soccer league across state lines.

But there I was, driving away in my boo-boo van, wondering how the conversation had gone so terribly wrong.

Five months later, I accepted the truth.

The van had to go.

I returned to the dealership expecting the man who had gotten me into this situation to help me get out of it.

Except he was not there.

“Where is he?” I asked the receptionist.

“Ma’am, he no longer works here.”

What did she mean? That was impossible.

“Where did he go?”

“Ma’am, we cannot disclose that information.”

“Why not? He sold me this car. I don’t want it. I need to speak with him.”

“We’re sorry, ma’am.”

Sorry?

I had accidentally purchased a soccer-mom van because I was distracted by their salesman, and now they had misplaced him.

Devastated, I turned to leave.

Another salesman had overheard the exchange. As I approached the exit, he stepped forward, held the door open—and sneezed.

Not an ordinary sneeze.

This man sneezed the name of another dealership.

I stopped. Had I heard what I thought I heard?

He stood there looking perfectly innocent, as though he suffered from a very specific form of seasonal allergy.

I looked at him.

He looked at me.

“Thank you,” I said.

That dealership had several locations, and I called every one until I found him.

Finally, he answered.

“You can run,” I said, “but you can’t hide.”

There was a pause.

“Excuse me?”

I exchanged the van.

And I kept the salesman.

So yes, I believe in love at first sight.

Sometimes it arrives with violins and roses.

Sometimes it arrives at a car dealership and sends you home in a vehicle you never wanted.

Either way, you are never quite the same.