Life, Lessons & Love

More Neon Signs? Leave Me Breathless

December 30, 2020

“Tempt me, tease me ’til I can’t deny this loving feeling”

Breathless was my third “flashing neon magenta sign” since June 2017. This time, it was offered by YouTube’s algorithm. I asked for a sign about two hours earlier. The sign was an hour overdue, but just as significant. This particular night, it was significant because my connection to the song predates the existence of YouTube. And perhaps, significant because it also reflected my very first “neon sign” experience, long before I had read the book which suggested the idea.

In 2001, I was in love (infatuated) with all three of the Corrs girls—it was a rather one-sided affair, but it still wrecked me, nonetheless.

I had started dating in August, and by October, I was in love with a woman who loved me in return. By November, I was head-over-heels, and spinning out of control. Soon, literally.

It was 11/9; an auspicious date, just two months after 9/11. With the Corrs’ song, Breathless, blaring from my CD player, I blasted across four lanes of rush hour traffic onto Ashburn Blvd.

It was a brilliantly sunny morning. But it was also the first extremely cold morning of the season—near freezing. The tires of my 1995 BMW M3 were cold, and my traction… limited.

I had wished for a new 4-door, 5-speed BMW. I was about to get my wish—the hard way.

As I entered the far right lane, continuing to accelerate hard while turning, the rear tires broke loose. I began to spin. I corrected, the spin reversed. Rotating clockwise so that I was nearly facing the SUV that was formerly “behind” me, I slid off the road at 45 mph, and moved rapidly toward a 30 foot lamp post.

I had time to watch the lamp post approach, and say methodically, “fuck, fuck, fuck.” The impact hit at the driver-side footwell, and crushed the side of the car, leaving less than twelve inches from which to extract my feet. After surveying my situation, I carefully pulled my feet out of the small hole that remained, turned off the car, and crawled out the passenger side door.

The driver of the SUV stopped. He approached; half, to check if I was alright, and half (I imagine many years later) to scream at me for being a complete idiot. In fact, that day, it was just two months after 9/11, and we all lived in a bubble of civility—we were all Americans—it was a way of being that few living through 2020 can remember or imagine. I walked toward him as he approached, looked him in the eyes, shook his hand, told him I was fine and said thank you. He went back to his SUV, and drove off. I called 911, and as I waited, a neighbor from the other side of the hill brought me coffee. I thanked her, and waited.

When the cop showed up, he looked at the car, he looked at the 30 foot lamp post sprawling across the sidewalk, he looked at me, and he looked at the coffee cup in my hand.

He didn’t actually do a double-take. But he did pause. And then he proceeded to go through the motions. He wasn’t going to charge me with reckless driving. Thank you to the neighbor who provided the coffee! But he was going to charge me with “failure to control my vehicle.” Looking ruefully at the car, the crushed footwell, and the lamp post over the pedestrian sidewalk, I concluded, “that’s fair.”

Breathless. You asked for it, you got it! How’s that?

It took me years to be able to listen to that song without flashbacks to that morning. But when I returned to the song, I realized how perfectly the lyrics captured the renewed romance in my life.

The insurance company took care of everything. I never heard about the lamp post again. I was very glad to see it quickly replaced. I got a check for the M3 that was probably more than I could have sold the car for—I was shocked by their valuation. And in late December, I took possession of a brand new four-door, five-speed 2002 BMW 330i.

Be careful what you wish for, you just might get it! Breathless!

Neon sign!