When I was in high school, I had arranged to meet up with a friend on the corner of a busy street so that we could go do whatever we were going to do. You know, high school girlie stuff.
A car rolled up at the red light and sat next to me. Since I was looking down the street at my favorite view (the Pacific Ocean), I had only noticed the car out of the corner of my eye.
And then I noticed that the driver (as some drivers do) was a bit bored in his car and started playing with the stick shift. It seemed it was in neutral because he was knocking it from side to side.
That’s strange. Why does he have a pair of stockings over the stick shift?
It was in this moment that I turned my head up the street to see if the bus that was bringing my friend was coming. And as my gaze traveled up the street, I happened to look right in the car.
It sure as hell wasn’t a pair of stocking and it definitely wasn’t a part of the car.
I remember thinking how, in girth, he had to have been the size of a Rosarita Refried Bean can.
And then, he drove away. I hoped he didn’t have an accident.