Wednesday - Auto Lust
May. 11th, 2005 09:56 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ninanevermoreWeather: Cloudy, humid and warm. High of 88. Thoughts: Hazy, dry and cool.
Today at the red light, I caught my car flirting with the vehicle next to us. I was shocked. The other car was a 1970-something Camero, a Frankenstein of a car with doors and fenders from other Cameros. Not the sort of thing a nice sedan from the suburbs should be flirting with at all. I was temped to turn off the engine and make my car go to sleep, until the bad-boy car she desired drove off, but I also didn't want to earn the hatred of the driver in the car behind me, so I bit my tongue and let my car behave shamelessly with monstrosity next to her.
When the light turned green, the Camero and his driver turned left and we went on our way. I decided not to bring up the subject with my Elantra, as it would only make her defensive. Who am I to judge? Sure, I'd rather she settle on a polite Saturn or a prosperous SUV. But I have also been known to long for dangerous men, myself. Nice men bore me to tears. I want a man who can swear and who's been in at least one bar fight in his life and who has broken the law without getting caught and who sewed so many wild oats when he was young that his past looks like a field of wild, delicious oats ready to be reaped, mixed with cinnamon and sugar and served up hot.
If I were a car, I probably would have flirted with that Camero, too. Sure, he was older and a little worn, but you could tell that he had it going on under the hood, which is what really counts.
At least I can be grateful that it wasn't a Hummer. If my car started chasing Hummers, I would have to get rid of her. I refuse to drive a gold-digger hussy of a car that would even consider a Hummer. It just wouldn't do.
Today at the red light, I caught my car flirting with the vehicle next to us. I was shocked. The other car was a 1970-something Camero, a Frankenstein of a car with doors and fenders from other Cameros. Not the sort of thing a nice sedan from the suburbs should be flirting with at all. I was temped to turn off the engine and make my car go to sleep, until the bad-boy car she desired drove off, but I also didn't want to earn the hatred of the driver in the car behind me, so I bit my tongue and let my car behave shamelessly with monstrosity next to her.
When the light turned green, the Camero and his driver turned left and we went on our way. I decided not to bring up the subject with my Elantra, as it would only make her defensive. Who am I to judge? Sure, I'd rather she settle on a polite Saturn or a prosperous SUV. But I have also been known to long for dangerous men, myself. Nice men bore me to tears. I want a man who can swear and who's been in at least one bar fight in his life and who has broken the law without getting caught and who sewed so many wild oats when he was young that his past looks like a field of wild, delicious oats ready to be reaped, mixed with cinnamon and sugar and served up hot.
If I were a car, I probably would have flirted with that Camero, too. Sure, he was older and a little worn, but you could tell that he had it going on under the hood, which is what really counts.
At least I can be grateful that it wasn't a Hummer. If my car started chasing Hummers, I would have to get rid of her. I refuse to drive a gold-digger hussy of a car that would even consider a Hummer. It just wouldn't do.
