Where was I ….
So, I’m late as usual … I’m driving down the street in my sweet new Soul (car, that is, my own soul is the original that came with this body) and the light changes to red so grudgingly I stop, as does the old guy on the motorcycle in the lane next to me. This is an old guy, long grey hair, long grey beard, bandana, aviator sun glasses, denim vest … every stereotype you can think of is this guy. He’s probably in his mid to late 70s. I can feel him looking at me through the window (I always keep the windows closed plus its 113 in the shade and the air works best with the windows closed). He revs, I ignore. He moves up a bit – the light hasn’t changed, don’t be moving if the light hasn’t changed – I ignore. I start hoping the light changes quickly. Oh, by the way, for those that don’t know me – I am prematurely grey – snow white hair … well I guess technically at this age now it may not be considered premature but anyway… my head looks like that of a 75 year old woman but because I’m not wrinkled and as saggy as I should be at that age (no offense to 75 year women) I look better than most 75 year old women.
So anyway, the light changes, I start driving, trying to get away from the original Easy Rider there and he speeds up. He gets in front of me and proceeds to do his little peacock mating ritual dance in front of me. He lazily swings his motorcycle back and forth from one side of the lane to the other in little S type movements, I guess showing off his fine motor skills???? I don’t know, what I do know is I was not impressed. In fact, I was pissed cause the man was slowing me down. I was late and he is lollygagging in front of me. I mouthed a whole collection of not so nice words at the man in Spanish and English hoping he could read my lips, but he just took his sweet time, finally turning off the onto a side street.
I think I’m going to have to dye my hair.
(Silence … I think I hear the word “conceited” being whispered)
So … uhm …anyway, how you been blog? Long time no see, huh!
(Blog raises its head and languidly rolls its eyes at me, checks its fingernails, shrugs and recedes back into the long dark hall of previous posts, as it mutters “Whatever, just remember to shut the door when you leave …. again”)
“I swear, this time it will be different Blog,” I yell out after it, trying to convince myself more than it …. really …. really … this time I’ll post more often …. I will.