Maybe this is only funny to me.
It could’ve been because it’s been a long day and I just needed an excuse to giggle hysterically.
But here’s how it went down:The sun is all up in my eyes which I figure accounts for the braking in front of me so obnoxious that it looks home girl has on her flashers. It turns out she has an all important text message to send right there in the middle of weekday rush hour traffic. I notice this as we roll to a stop under the signal.It is when the light turns green and we accelerate right into a head jerking stop that I am all ready to be ballistic except that I’ve begun to have such raucous conversations in my head instead of to the oblivious rolled up windows around me.
Rubbernecking I think as I notice on the right hand shoulder of the road what appears to be a fender bender by the sloppy parking of the three vehicles there. One woman looks particularly distraught as she glances to the left, northbound side of the highway.
There a well-groomed and collared pit bull mix jogs across two lanes, the left turn lane, and then along the shoulder. He is going southbound (my direction) on the northbound side of the highway! Because the cars around me have slowed under another signal I am able to watch his mama in my side mirror. The “O” of her mouth is begging him back but he is jogging like an already slender chick trying to get ready for bikini season. A real chill jog, like, “Look at my fine-ness.”
He dips back into the left turn lane, causing more traffic to stop, swerve, drive away slowly in that obvious “WTF” acceleration that’s real graduated because you’re still glancing in the rearview trying to believe what just happened really just happened.
But one WTF acceleration graduates and then slows to a stop along the shoulder. Out of the white Camry steps a woman in her I-was-just-doing-the laundry-Stacey-and-Clinton-outfit (complete with flip flops in the windy forty degree weather). She squats a little to his level. Then she begins patting her thighs with her palms like she’s about to do a hand jive. And she points her lips…into a whistle.
Sexy MF never turns to look at her. He just jogs on in the same sexy way. Right on away from his distraught mama who is now a good two blocks back probably still wringing her hands, maybe still calling him thinking he’s gonna come back now that he’s had his 15 minutes of fame. The lady in the white Camry just gets in her car trying not to look defeated and pulls into the anonymity of the traffic.
And I, well I giggle all the way home wishing I could find a friend like that dog. Man, those would be some good times. Good times.