For a few days at least, I have a car. No, I have a truck. A genu-ine pick-up truck. It’s been four months since I had transportation of any kind (of my own, anyway). I only have it now because Doc is out of town and she’s got our one-and-only car.
Anyway, I wanted a PT Cruiser, but the rental place didn’t have any. They offered me a Dodge Ram 1500, which was way too big for this girly-girl, so they gave me a Dodge Dakota instead. Which I’m still trying to figure out how to park. And reaching the pedals is a challenge. And I can’t reach the radio or the cup-holder too well (this is definitely not a vehicle for short people). Still, I am enjoying the illusion of butchiness, for just a little while.
So here I am at the Starbucks, alone. Blessedly alone. Sorry, Doc, I love you dearly, but I’m sure you’re enjoying your break from chauffeuring me around.
A butch babe alone with her pick-up truck. Ahhhh. Butchy goodness. Guess I’ll go rip up a phone book or spit or something. Yeah.
This post gave me a much-needed, heartfelt laugh. Thank you.
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