You’ve had it happen before. Even if you don’t want to admit it.
I was driving home from dinner last night. Listening to a little Pit Bull, dancing in my seat, singing along. And I stop at a red light. Out of the corner of my eye, I see the car next to me inching up. And inching up. I think “Do I look?” I know I was making a fool of myself, I did not care. There is nothing like a rockin’ song on the radio to ward off the frigid temps here in MI. (That and having the heat cranked up full tilt). I took a chance. Looked over. There he is….Elmer Freaking Fudd….nodding, smiling, winking. EEEWWWWWW.
All I can picture is National Lampoon’s Vacation….Christie Brinkley and Chevy Chase. In reverse. Although I don’t drive a fire engine red Ferrari (or any color Ferrari for that matter-more like a gray Vibe) and I don’t look like Christie Brinkley. You get the idea through – moderately hot chick, old beer-bellied dude in a
station wagon minivan- pointing at the Christmas lights to distract his family as he makes eye contact. I laughed. When the light turned, I pulled away gingerly so as to not slip on the ice. But believe you me, had I been driving a red Ferrari with the top down I’d have peeled out like there’s no tomorrow.
I just can’t help but wondering – in all of the
two times this has happened to me – for once can’t it just be Brad Pitt? “Hey Angie – hey pack of children – look at those lovely lights….” And he turns to me. Our eyes meet. He gives the nod. The light changes color and as he steams up the window and writes his phone number, backwards so I can read it, and I just flip my hair, give a little wave and go racing off. In my red Ferrari.
A girl can dream, can’t she?