(g)love box

Professional and I decided to spend one of the most magical days of the year and century, 12-12-12, enjoying a blue cheese bacon burger, rosemary garlic fries, and a couple of glasses of wine. Some may say this doesn’t sound too different from any other day of my life, but I must note that the bacon is house smoked, thus, very magical.

As we dined, Professional shared with me the joy she has experienced as a result of owning her car, “When you turn the steering wheel it is like you are gliding. Both the interior and exterior are so sleek, so sexy. I feel so good in it.” “You kind of sound like you’re describing a lover,” I observed. “I do have a great love for it,” she replied. “It sounds like a good thing for you. You never have to wonder where it may be, although there may be times when you forget where you parked; you pretty much go everywhere together; warms up your seat for you; has a nice trunk; good space and light in the glove box; goes fast or slow depending on your desires; responds to your needs; provides direction when you’re backing up. Need I go on?” I said. “No, I think you’ve highlighted some of his greatest strengths,” she replied. “It would be nice if he did a better job keeping criminals out of your belongings,” I advised. “That’s true, but they left behind what I love the most – my car. It’s pretty magical,” she said and then suggested we get back in it and head home.

We did, and I must say, it was a sweet ride – my ass felt great (and warm) the whole time.