Bruce Moen
|
Boris,
Linn's post about her daughter's visit with the blue-eye blonde reminded me of my younger, single days. Met a woman I was interested in getting to know and decided to visit her one night. I don't do classic out of body, so I just imagined going to her home in the middle of the night and striking up a conversation.
When we met two days later in the physical world for lunch she gave me a very stern look and said, say about your visit two nights ago, you don't need to be so rude next time! Lucky for me the next thing she did was burst out laughing!
I have a friend in Indiana who occassionally sees me there, she says I look solid to her. I have no memory of these visits.
Judy use to travel as a salesman, driving her car to across several states to visit customers. She said I suddenly appeared in the front passenger seat as she was on a long drive to a customer. She couldn't hear me, but could clearly see me. I was pointing out the window at one of those freeway exit signs, and indicating that she take should that exit. She saw no reason to exit the freeway, still 90 miles from her destination, and asked me, why?
She described that I pointed at her odometer, laughed like a fiend, and indicated that she should take the next freeway exit. She had the feeling I was telling her she needed to buy gasoline, but started arguing with me, saying she had plenty of gas, she was running late and couldn't afford to take the time to play games with me. She said at that point I was laughing like crazy, pointing at her odometer, and pointing at the approaching freeway exit.
Judy's car has one of those gizmos that tells you how many miles you have left based on the amount of gas in the tank and the car's average mileage. But, as she pointed out, all good salesmen have papers laying everywhere in their car, including covering the speedometer, and in her case, covering the gizmo.
She said I became really insistant that she exit the freeway, but she was so certain she had plenty of gas for the rest of her trip that she moved those papers to prove it to me. It was then that she saw the gizmo said she had 40 miles of gas left, and just in the nick of time she swerved across two lanes of freeway to take the exit.
At that point I, according to Judy, was laughing so hard I was doubled over holding me belly. As she pulled up to the gas station I smiled at her and disappeared.
Later, when she called to tell me about all this she said she was glad it happened. Evidently she was driving through a stretch of pretty desolate country and the exit she took was the last one for 60 miles. My visit saved her from being really late, out of gas and miles from the nearest gas station.
Bruce
|