Wednesday, August 11, 2010

A Car With a View

Supposedly you can tell a lot about a person by what the inside of their car looks like. I was riding with a guy a few months ago who let me in on a little secret. I was looking at the pristine inside of his black Beamer, not a speck of dust (in a black interior no less), not even an empty coffee cup in the holder.
It was spotless, and therefore, I was immediately skeptical.

"Did you just clean your car?"
"Nope, I always keep it this way."
"Bullsh*t," I laughed. "So is your house like this then?"
"My house, f*ck no! I got piles of clothes on the floor, dishes next to the bed, I'm a bachelor, remember."
"Then why do you give a shit about your car?"
"Because, you gotta get them to the house first, then they're already sold."

AH HA!!!!!

I had no idea. It's so simple. So, a chick sees a nice car, thinks the car represents the man, goes home with his suave *ss and BOOM, total mess. But by then, she already likes him. She wants him, she got in the car didn't she? Brilliant.

So, I took a peak at my own little toaster on wheels. Tried to see it from an outsider's perspective, even a potential love perspective.
No wonder they all run screaming back to their mommas!

All of the cup holders are filled, no matter what, at all times. Water bottles, empty coffee cups (of course there are several of those on the floor as well), empty Coke cans, a melting bottle of Aleve gel caps, you name it, those holders are loaded. Cds, paperwork and spare change are jammed into every dashboard nook. The door pockets are loaded with more paperwork, a Rand McNally road atlas ('cause no self-respecting woman would ever go ANYWHERE without a map), and empty cigarette packs. And this is just the front of the car.

The back, where the children live, is similar, although the sh*t littering the floor is of a different priority set. Action figures, several of them, some covered with honey roasted peanuts, are scattered everywhere. Empty juice boxes, various writing implements and several pairs of socks also lurk back there. Oh, and a basketball and a Frisbee. Hey, you never know, right?

The way, way back is a culmination of "what if." There are two fishing poles, one little one big (actually the big one follows the length of the car, and I can't say I haven't caught my hair on the hook jutting out into the front seat), tackle box, the famous blanket (see previous blog), a pair of flip flops, a small tool box for fixing scooters and skateboards, an over sized Mother's Day card riddled with truck stickers and a pair of Frye boots, just in case...

Yeah, my life is on display. I should create an exhibit with my car. I guess it would be labelled "multi-media" given the peanuts and the balled up fishing line. I think I will call it "Nomad Home." Or something like that.

Oh, and, as clean as that guy's car was, I never went home with him. Couldn't get a read. It freaked me out.

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