Thursday, May 19, 2011

Scrub

I'm in the middle of moving from Ada to Oklahoma City.  Those cities are roughly 80 miles apart and I've made several trips with the aid of my friend Valerie.  So I've been recovering from food poisoning and still needed to get my mattress and boxspring from the old apartment.  I borrowed an old Ford with the word "Ford" scraped off of the back bumper, windows that don't roll down and some of it's original paint, grabbed Val and her kiddo and made a trip to Ada to collect said bed. I was unwell anyway and hadn't kept anything down for a day or so, so I was a little weak.  Was very glad to drag myself through the shower and stick my hair up in a pony tail.  It's getting long so it probably does look like a pony's tail.  To make a long story short, I was driving down 23rd street last night (a very interesting venture) at 8 last night, trying to return the truck to my friend in Norman.  I had on no make up. I smelled like a dead badger that's been in the sun awhile.  I'm pale anyway so I can only imagine the visage that spoke to the three guys who rolled up next to me in a bombed out Nissan Altima at a stoplight.
"Aaaayyy girl", one guy hollered out the passenger window.
I hate being called girl. I am not a girl. I am a woman. I ignored said holler.
"Aaaayyy girl!"
I looked over.
"Hey, roll down your window."
"It doesn't roll down."
"Well you can hear me. Hey, are you married?"
"Yes, I lied." I looked at the guy closely.  He seemed in his early to mid 20's.
"You ain't wearing a ring." He had me there...
"I gotta wear a ring to be married?  Shoot."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah, well you could take my number and see me on the down." He gave me his best interview smile.  I must've looked at him like he was crazy.
The light changed. My truck blew a cloud of smoke and I pulled away, wagging my finger at the kid.
Couldn't help but smile at him and the song suddenly stuck in my head.  "..hanging out the passenger side of his best friend's ride, trying to holler at me."
My 38th birthday is coming in a few weeks.  At this point, it's a compliment.

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