When they met, a lifetime ago, neither of them could have predicted what life had in store. How could they? Life wasn’t really like in the stories of old, where getting stuck in traffic would forever change the course of your destiny. But that’s what happened for Artie and Pat – short for Patricia. They loved each other, there was no doubt about it. Things happen over the years, you move through stormy seas and you face the seemingly insurmountable challenges this life throws at you, but you get through it all together. And that’s the key – together. Artie always did say that Pat – short for Patricia – was his rock. That if he hadn’t met her on that hot summer’s day, his life story would be a very different one. A story of solitude and turmoil, a life of booze and drugs and masturbation. And as good as that life seems, what he got from Pat – short for Patricia – was arguably just as good. Maybe even better in some ways.
They met at the Polestar Roundabout in particularly heavy traffic in the middle of July. Frustrated and going nowhere, Artie got out of his car to stretch his legs and walk around a bit, when he noticed the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on, sitting in her car with the window down and her eyes closed. She looked so blissfully unaware of the chaos going on around her, the angry faces and the sound of horns and people shouting things like “just fucking go dickhead!” at each other. She was just sat there, listening to her radio and enjoying the breeze on her pretty face. Artie was not a forward man but something deep within compelled him to approach her.
“Excuse me”, he said nervously, “I – I don’t usually do this, but…never mind…”, and he turned to walk away.
“Hey handsome”, she called after him, “did you have something to say to me?”
He didn’t believe it at first, because he wasn’t a particularly handsome man – he had a big nose and droopy ears, and barely any chin to speak of – but it was him she was talking to.
“I just, I just wanted to say hello. My name’s Artie”
“Hello Artie, I’m Pat – short for Patricia”
He extended a sweaty hand and she shook it. As he was turning again to leave, he heard a voice inside his head tell him that if he didn’t at least try, then he would regret the decision for the rest of his life. So he turned back.
“Listen, I was just wondering if you wanted to grab something to eat maybe, I don’t know. I have an egg and onion sandwich in my glove box, this traffic isn’t going anywhere so maybe you could come round to my car later and we can share that or something maybe I don’t know…”, and he awaited the rejection.
“Sure, sounds good, Mr. Egg & Onion”, she replied, “I’ll see you then”
Artie couldn’t believe his big droopy ears! He was sure he’d never see her again but now they had a date! He wasn’t a huge fan of the “Mr. Egg & Onion” part but what was he going to do.
“I’m in the blue Corsa back there, the 97 DL!”, and with that he ran back to get ready. He licked his palms and swept back his hair in the rear view mirror, and waited. Somewhere between the heat and nerves he must have drifted off, because before he knew it, Pat – short for Patricia – was knocking on his passenger window.
They talked over the egg and onion sandwich for hours, about their hopes and dreams, and fears too. But mostly they talked about the traffic, and how a bridge would be a much better idea but nooooooo that would make far too much sense of course the council will just keep adding more traffic lights fuck sake like. They had talked well into the night and before they knew it it was almost 4am.
“I should get back”, Pat – short for Patricia – said, although Artie could hear in her voice that she didn’t really want to go. And of course he didn’t want her to go, but there would always be tomorrow. They kissed and she leaves and Artie doesn’t sleep a wink, he just lay back in his seat and smiled, thinking about a future he had never thought possible before now.
They spent every day together after that for the next two week in that traffic jam, talking and laughing and eating egg and onion sandwiches. She did call him Mr. Egg & Onion a few more times but he bit his tongue. Artie was ugly but he wasn’t stupid. And on the night of August first, they made love for the first time. It was awkward enough in the back of his Corsa and they knew people could kind of see them, but they’d been in traffic for several weeks now and everyone else was at it so whatever. Nine months later they welcomed their first child, Eunan – a bastard. Not long after that Artie proposed and the honking and cheering rang out through the town and over the hills. Their wedding was attended by every single occupant of every single car in that traffic jam, and Pat – short for Patricia – was walked down the bicycle lane by the man with the van three cars back.
As time moved on and the traffic moved forward inch by inch, year by year, they welcomed two more children. One of Artie’s greatest joys in life was watching them play together on the grass beneath the Polestar. But of course, children grow. It seemed to happen in the blink of an eye. The ATU was within walking distance, and they would soon look for a car to call their own, but some of these people are pushing ninety and they shouldn’t really even be driving anyway so like…you know…
But they would always come back to the Corsa, the family car, for the holidays and special occasions. But they eventually had families of their own and those times together became fewer. But Artie and Pat – short for Patricia – would always have each other. They lived side by side through everything life in the Polestar traffic could throw at them, as husband and wife, driver and passenger. Egg and Onion.
Until, one morning just like any other, the time came to say goodbye. Artie knew his time was up. He knew he would leave his beloved Pat – short for Patricia – that day. As she slept beside him, he simply looked at her pretty face, the same face that had captivated him so all those years ago. And he smiled, because he knew that even though the entirety of their time spent together they had probably only actually moved about two metres, they had completed life’s most important journey, together. And on that thought, he shed his mortal coil, and passed away peacefully. And as Artie’s wee hearty departed the party, he done a wee farty and woke up the tarty. She knew. He died with a smile, and she knew he was at peace. She gently kissed his forehead and laid her head on his chest.
And then the light turned green.