Hello, friends! I used to post short fictional snippets on Fridays, and over the years, I got away from that. As I want to commit to my blog and its creative nature in 2024, I decided to bring back this Friday feature.
So, to kick it off, here’s a very short story about a man in a Pinto (remember those cars?)
Fiction Friday is BACK!
FRIDAY FICTION: THE MAN IN THE PINTO
The car looks old. It is old. My guess is that the car is forty-plus years old. The brown paint is dull and is chipping off the car; the wheels look smaller than what we are used to today. Surprisingly, the right blinker works. I know, because I was behind him on my drive to work at the bank. I should have arrived ten minutes earlier, but traffic prevented me from being on time. That and the fact that I probably should have left my house twenty minutes earlier.
I look at the Pinto as I hurry out of my car and race to the front doors. Way back when, my family owned a Ford Pinto station wagon. It was white with faux wood side panels. Was that car ever cool? Maybe, but I doubt it. However, we seemed to make great memories inside that car, including taking trips to see family and shuffling around to sports games and neighborhood events. It’s funny how you attach memories to things, particularly a car.
The man in the Pinto comes into the bank often. He’s an older, gray-haired gentleman with a little bald spot on top. Each week, he arrives when the bank opens to make his deposits and withdrawals. He doesn’t trust technology or online banking. Our bank manager tried to convince him to switch to online banking, but he adamantly declined. He prefers to speak to a teller in order to make his transactions. He’s personable enough, gives us a smile, wishes us a good day, and then goes about his business—whatever that may be—as a long retired senior.
As I watch him walk back to his car in the parking lot, I notice a slight limp. Nothing too worrisome, but it’s there nonetheless. He uses the key to open the door and climbs back into the car. I wait to see if it will start, because the car looks that old and decrepit. Seconds later, his car starts, he slowly backs up out of his spot, and makes his way on the road away from the bank.
The irony of the man in the Pinto is that he’s worth millions with our bank. Who knows what other investments he has elsewhere? I wonder what his occupation was that he made this type of money, or was it inherited. I don’t know the story, but admittedly, I would like to know. Knowing how much money he has in this bank makes me marvel that he drives a car that looks like it might not make it to the next corner.
Years ago, I read a book called The Millionaire Next Door, and I realize that the man in the Pinto epitomizes the theme of that book: you never know how much money people actually have, how much their net worth is, by the way they live their lives, and you certainly can’t judge a book by a cover.
It makes me want to hold onto my current car for as long as I can.
About the author:
STEPHANIE VERNI is the author of THE LETTERS IN THE BOOKS; FROM HUMBUG TO HUMBLE: THE TRANSFORMATION OF EBENEZER SCROOGE; BENEATH THE MIMOSA TREE; INN SIGNIFICANT; LITTLE MILESTONES; THE POSTCARD; and ANNA IN TUSCANY. She is also a co-author of the textbook, EVENT PLANNING: COMMUNICATING THEORY & PRACTICE. Currently an adjunct professor at Stevenson University Online, she instructs communication courses for undergraduate and graduate students. She and her husband reside in Severna Park, Maryland, and have two children. On the side, she enjoys writing travel articles for marylandroadtrips.com.