
I snapped these pictures while walking to breakfast one Sunday to meet my ex and her sister, who was visiting from out of town. We were very recently broken up and both hoping, against reason, that we could reconcile. Her sister's visit was a neutral way to be together, preventing us from falling into a horrible discussion of what went wrong with our relationship, or falling into bed. My ex is very beautiful, very smart and 20 years younger than me. In short, she's hot and it's almost impossible for me not to want to touch her, even though I've been burned many times. Like I said, I'm an idiot.
This model of the 225 - a poor man's Cadillac, known as the "Deuce and a Quarter" - is from either '71 or '72, a couple years newer than my grandpa's more conservative version. I remember riding in it to St. Armand's Shopping Circle and going to Tail O' The Pup, a bar and grill that had great cheeseburgers and was dark and very air-conditioned, unlike the rest of Sarasota. We went to Florida all the time when we were growing up, from being little kids fighting to sit on the king seat, to getting crushes on granddaughters who were down at the pool at my grandparents' condo, all the way until I could drive. Unfortunately, by that time the old Buick had been traded in for some crappy late 70's car - I think it was a Dodge Aspen - so I never got behind the wheel.
The breakfast with my former fiance and her sister went as well as could be expected. Everybody was on their best behavior. The only truly weird part was afterwards when we took some pictures outside; one of her and her sister, one of me with my arm around my her, and one of all three of us, snapped by a waiter. I'm not sure what we were commemorating. "Hey, remember that awkward, overly polite brunch last January? In case you don't, here's some uncomfortably posed photos." Doing something familiar like that and realizing it feels foreign is one of those things that tells you that you've started a new chapter, but goddamn it's impossible not to want to flip back a couple hundred pages. Afterward, I walked home and noticed the beautiful Buick was gone from the parking space where I had seen it earlier. I hoped to catch a glimpse of it again in neighborhood soon.