Blogpost #2 in honor of Dr. Steven Bourquin
For about 10 years, Steven had a spectacular black 700 series BMW. He loved that car. He cared for it like a doting father. I asked Steven to teach my children how to wash a car because he did it so meticulously. He shared with me that as a child, his Saturday morning ritual with his father was to wash the family cars. Steven took great care of everything he owned.
You could tell where Steven was if you saw the black BMW, often parked far away from a building so no one else would park near it and ding a car door. One day at the Southeastern Fitness Lifestyle Center in Lumberton, I noticed Steven’s car all alone, parked at an angle two rows further from the building than any other car. I thought I would give him a chuckle. So, I parked my car at the same diagonal that he parked, as close to his car as I dared. Only a couple of inches separated the two cars.
I exited through the passenger side of my car and waited for Steven to come out of the building, notice my car, and laugh at how I teased him about his obsession for his car. Instead, when he came out, he was visibly shaken. He stalked around for a while. He went back inside and returned outside, still pacing and running his hand over his head and face in consternation.
Unbeknownst to me, apparently in some circles (perhaps, among car lovers), my action was considered a very aggressive step, essentially challenging someone to a fight. As strong as Steven was, he was so peace-loving and never wanted to fight anyone.
I quickly ran up to him, revealing the prank. I told him that I thought he would immediately recognize my car, but his interpretation of the aggressive action instantaneously kicked in. Once he realized it was a joke, he relaxed and laughed uproariously. Steven loved a great prank and was a good sport when he was the target.