The Stranger with the Amazongrun BMW

Somewhere on a long stretch of highway, I passed a guy pulled over on the shoulder with an Amazon Green BMW 2002 .

I was driving my E21 at the time.
Old BMWs recognize each other the way dogs do.

Sort of like Subaru’s do now
So I slowed, and stopped to see if I could help.

It wasn’t a simple fix like burned points

His motor had popped. He was stranded in the middle of nowhere with a classic car and the kind of expression that says, well… that’s today, I guess.

I drove him to a tow yard. Then to a hotel. It wasn’t a big thing, just one enthusiast helping another. Somewhere along the way, the conversation shifted into that strange, effortless honesty that only happens between strangers on the road.

He told me about his life.About mistakes. About how his brother was about to marry someone everyone knew he shouldn’t and that was why he was here. He was on his way to the wedding. About business decisions he regretted. About dreams he shelved because they required a version of himself he wasn’t sure he could become.

I listened. Mostly because there was nothing else to do but drive and sometimes that’s all it takes for someone to finally say what’s been sitting heavy on them.

I’m not sure he ever told me his name. I definitely lost his number. We never crossed paths again.

But that’s what the road does. It gives you these small, fleeting intersections with people you’ll never see twice. Moments that don’t fit neatly into your life but somehow stay there anyway.

Every now and then, when I see a 2002 go by, I wonder how his story turned out. I hope the tow yard treated him fair. I hope his brother figured things out. And I hope, wherever he ended up, he found a version of himself he could live with.

The road is full of strangers.
A few of them stay with you.