me: awww. . . . hon. . . . that's so sweet you came and found me. . . . *finding air and a great big smile*
the husband: you didn't ride up here? *slightly dazed and confused*
me: no-ooo. *oh crap*
the husband: so, you didn't ride your bike up here? *still hoping*
me: so. . . how was work? *note to self: must change subject*
the husband: so, you didn't ride your bike up here?
me: me? No. Um. I drove Coco Chanel and put my bike in the back seat. *super-duper crap*
the husband: you what? ! *face dropping past his bottoms hitting the store floor with a decided thump*
me: well . . .I, uh. I was running late. *loss of blood from entire body*
the husband: *crickets chirping*
me: why is your face on the floor?
the husband: *more crickets chirping*
me: I didn't do anything to Coco. *defiant*
the husband: you. put. your. bike. in. Coco. *laser death ray eyes*
me: I thought you'd be proud that I figured out how to . . . but. . .
the husband: don't.
me: but. . .
the husband: don't.
A few minutes later . . .
the husband: did you at least lay something down on the seat? *decidedly thinking*
me: um. No, but. . .
the husband: don't.
20-minutes later . . .
me: it's just a car.
the husband: I said don't. *maniacal laser death ray eyes*
I am now dead to you all, writing from beyond the grave.
the husband: you didn't ride up here? *slightly dazed and confused*
me: no-ooo. *oh crap*
the husband: so, you didn't ride your bike up here? *still hoping*
me: so. . . how was work? *note to self: must change subject*
the husband: so, you didn't ride your bike up here?
me: me? No. Um. I drove Coco Chanel and put my bike in the back seat. *super-duper crap*
the husband: you what? ! *face dropping past his bottoms hitting the store floor with a decided thump*
me: well . . .I, uh. I was running late. *loss of blood from entire body*
the husband: *crickets chirping*
me: why is your face on the floor?
the husband: *more crickets chirping*
me: I didn't do anything to Coco. *defiant*
the husband: you. put. your. bike. in. Coco. *laser death ray eyes*
me: I thought you'd be proud that I figured out how to . . . but. . .
the husband: don't.
me: but. . .
the husband: don't.
A few minutes later . . .
the husband: did you at least lay something down on the seat? *decidedly thinking*
me: um. No, but. . .
the husband: don't.
20-minutes later . . .
me: it's just a car.
the husband: I said don't. *maniacal laser death ray eyes*
I am now dead to you all, writing from beyond the grave.
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9 comments:
Coco? You have a car called Coco?
Yes. I named my car, Coco Channel. The other vehicles all have names as well: Eleanor, Baso, Eleanor II, Lucy, etc.
This is not common?
Okay. Um, I'm not qualified to speak to how common this is. I have heard of it. I don't do it. Mine is called The Mazda. Sometimes Mazda for short.
Coco Channel? Is it a pun?
No, it's a very classy perfume. One of the only perfumes I can manage to sometimes wear, you know, with my allergies to all things perfumey. That and the Coach one (it's sorta growing on me) --- one teeny-tiny leetol spritz of it is all that is needed (and I can still get headaches). I never was a big perfumer, but it doesn't mean I can't wish or dream . . .
I forgot to mention "The Beast" that we no longer have. Damn the Kercedes. 1,000 curses on you German Beheamoth.
P.S. You've ridden (and gotten lost with me) in Coco - do you think it's a pun? ? ? Hmmm. . .
Well, I thought it was a pun because, although I am familiar with the perfume Coco Chanel, I have never heard of the perfume Coco Channel. I thought maybe you had bought a car with a multi channel amp or something and were being clever. Clearly not. Sorry, my mistake, won't happen again.
Today's word verification: gambu - what you are doing when you play poker with a ghost.
Ahhhh . . . in the "comments" section I hit one too many n's. . . I see where you're confusion lies. Sorry!
I also meant Basso - not Baso. Note to self: One should not drink when responding to comments.
I'm just sayin'.
Men care entirely too much about their cars. My last boyfriend would only let me bring WATER into the car - no diet coke, no snacks - ONLY WATER. We had many arguments over that, because I am THAT mature.
Ah, yes. I see now that it was Coco Chanel in your original post. And thanks for the heads up on Basso. I wouldn't have wanted to embarrass myself by mis-pronouncing her name.
Ah yes, men and their cars...
perhaps we should think of it like someone placing our Coach bags in dirt???? i dunno.
;p
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