A Ride in an Austin Healey Sprite

Robert Graham studied his image in the mirror as he adjusted his hairpiece. He was only thirty-eight but had begun losing his hair fifteen years before. And now he was in love with Gracie Benson, the new secretary at the school where he taught English. He didn't know how to ask her for a date. One day, she surprised him when he arrived at the office.

"Professor Graham, I saw you drive in with your Austin Healey Sprite this morning. I'm an old-car fan. Did you just get it?" He nodded. "I'd love a ride," she said. Robert could hardly believe what he was hearing. "Yes, of course, Ms. Benson. How about lunchtime?" Gracie agreed at once.

At exactly noon, the two walked to the school's parking lot. When Gracie spotted the car, she ran to it squealing with delight. "Here, let me help you put the top down," she exclaimed. "It's chilly," he observed. "Shouldn't we leave the top up?" "Nonsense," she responded. "A ride in a car like this has be tops down!"

"My parka's in the trunk," Robert declared. "I'd better put it on." It was the hood that needed to be on his head, he thought. "That's silly," she declared. "Hurry let's get going."

Soon they were on their way, top down, but Robert was keeping the speed down to a creep. "Professor," said Gracie, open 'er up. I need to feel the wind in my hair!"

The car was in second gear as Robert pressed harder on the accelerator. He was holding on to the steering wheel with his left hand and keeping his hair in place with his right. The car began screaming in complaint. It wanted to be shifted to a higher gear. Robert removed his right hand from the function it was performing, grabbed the shift lever and shoved it into third. Then, hurriedly, he placed his hand where it had been. It was too late. His hairpiece blew off his head and disappeared to some unknown location behind the car. He slammed on the brakes. After he had brought the car to a standstill, he mumbled, "Wait here." He exited from the car and, with hands deep in his pockets, sauntered to where the hairpiece was lying.

He was gone several minutes. When he returned to the car, he saw that Gracie was staring at him enraptured.

"I hadn't planned on telling you about my hairpiece this way, Ms. Benson," he mumbled.

"Oh, Professor Graham, you're not a kid," she exclaimed. "I thought you were one of those young juveniles they have at the college posing as intellectuals. You look so distinguished! Why do you wear that brainless thing? The way you look, I could get very interested in you!"

"You like me this way?" Robert stammered incredulously.

"Oh yes, I do! Would you do me a favor? Wear the thing in class if you want to, but when you're with me, keep it off. I like you so much better without it." She laughed. "Then too, when you're driving your car, you won't have to worry about flipping your lid!"

"It's not important to you that I don't have hair on my head?"

"Oh, Professor, it's not what's on a man's head that's important," she responded. "It's what's inside that counts!"