Last night I dreamt that I was driving down I-5 in a flesh colored 1960 cadillac. I had on big white sunglasses and a blue scarf tied around my head to protect my hairdo. I had red red red lipstick on and was smiling recklessly at nothing. Sheryl Crow was rocking on the radio. I had a bag of Ruffles in my lap and was snacking occasionally from the bag and licking my fingers so the wheel wouldn't get greasy. I had a bottle of club soda and I was having a tough time opening and closing the bottle between slugs. I was very concerned about losing the fizz. I thought, "Why doesn't club soda taste like regular water when it loses it's fizz? It tastes like...something else...a not very pleasant something else." Then I let the matter drop and hummed along with Cheryl. I passed a chicken along the side of the road and laughed my ass off. I glanced into the rearview mirror and was chagrined to see a baby laying on the back seat. A butt naked slightly glowing baby. And I thought, "Oh great! I'm transporting an angel baby...am I speeding?!? I can't get pulled over transporting an angel baby! Man, I'd be in some serious trouble if I was found with this angel baby....how the heck did I get an angel baby anyway???" Then I returned to the chip bag to munch and ponder. And that's when I breezed right through the red light. So, of course, there's a cop on a motorcycle adn he appears from nowhere (how do they do that?!?!?) and he's giving me the "pull over lady" sign and I'm trying to figure out how to hide the angel baby fast! So I dump the bag of chips on the floor and kick all the chips under the seat and stomp on them so I end up with just chip dust and then I reach behind me and stuff the angel baby gently into the chip bag and then I reach into the glove box and there is a chip bag resealer device in there and I reseal the chip bag and toss the bag gently into the seat behind me and then I pull over.
"Is there a problem officer?" I ask pulling out my lipstick and giving myself a little freshening up as I hand him my license and registration. Just as he's taking them from my hand I realize that the license I'm handing him is not my license but what appears to be a young Asian man's license and that the registration is not for the car but for my espresso machine instead. "Oh boy!" I think and my hand shakes a little and I smear my red red red lipstick just a bit. Suddenly Cheryl stops singing and a voice says, "This is a special announcement from the government of the Universe! This is a special announcement from the government of the Universe! Grab the nearest person and do-si-do!" And I think, "Oh for heaven's sake! Not now!" The cop opens the door and offers his hand and I pop out and we do-si-do on I-5. I look around and everyone is do-si-do-ing. The cop says, "Ain't it a beautiful world, Ma'am?" And I agree but what I'm really thinking is "How long can an angel baby breathe in a sealed chip bag?" As I am doing the rudimentary calculations in my head the song ends and the cop puts me back in my cadillac, tips his helmet, and wishes me a good day. I rip open the chip bag and pull out the angel baby dusting off all the chip dander from it's glowing skin. I tuck the chip baby next to me and buckle us both up, then I crank up Cheryl on the radio and head back down the road. Pretty soon I see one of those weigh station signs and there is a small orange sign tacked to the bottom of it saying, "Angel Baby drop off point". A huge sigh of relief busts out of me and I flip the blinker and slow the caddy down. I didn't have the proper paperwork and it took FOREVER to drop off the angel baby but in the end it all worked out okay (it was a bitch trying to explain away why there was chip dust between the angel babies toes...who knew the inspection would be that detailed?!?!)and I was finally able to get back to the open road. I was just thinking about hitting a Cracker Barrel when I happened to glance once again into the rearview mirror to find a little devil baby laying butt naked on the seat glowing back at me.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment