Kinda Funny, Kinda Sad...
When I came back with lunch, there was a red Monte Carlo sittin' at the stop sign waiting to turn onto Highway 11 out front. It wasn't a racin' kinda Monte, but one of the newer front-wheel drive ones like we'll probably all be racing in a few years. It was fire-engine red with dark tinted glass, and the flash of white shoepolish really took me back.
The first (only) time I ever "got shoepolished" was my senior year, right around Graduation. To anyone else, having the car windows all done-up with shoepolish would probably be an annoyance; but to me, at that moment, it was almost like a rite of passage -- As a kid who'd always felt like I didn't quite fit in, I felt like I was part of the bunch. I never got a straight answer as to who did it; maybe my boyfriend at the time, or maybe some of my Band Buddies, or even the remote possiblilty of My Mom having some kind of hand in it; it didn't matter at the time though -- just that I was "in" enough that somebody went to the trouble of scrawling 95's and "Congratulations" and only-God-knows-what-all-else in white and black on the windows and mirrors of my little black Ford was enough to make me happy.
That red Monte Carlo didn't have quite the same feel to it though. I couldn't decide if I should giggle at the stupidity, or worry about the illiteracy.
On the right-side quarter window, it said "CALL ME!" and just forward, on the right-side door glass, it said "YOUR HOTT."
"If you've ever mis-spelled anything in Christmas Lights..."
More later... _\,,/