Watched The Graduate tonight and the same damn thing happened that's happened every time I've watched it. I over-identified. Soon as the credits rolled, I ran out to my car, hopped in, and started up. I couldn't put the top down on my red Alpha Romeo because it's a gold Saturn four-door hardtop, but I rolled down the window, and sped off, headed for Berkeley to find Elaine.
I used to get farther before reaility bit.
Tonight I was barely past the library three blocks away. Young guy, a whole lot closer to Ben Braddock's age, stepped off the sidewalk and started to cross the street ahead of me. I slowed to let him get to the other side alive. As I passed him, smoke from his cigarette drifted in through the window. One whiff snapped me back to myself.
I turned into the lot at the convenience mart. Went inside and bought a gallon of milk and drove home to resume being Mr Braddock and not, if Jesus loves me, Mr Robinson.