I hate to put gas in my car, especially on cute days. Nothing screws up the mojo of good hair like whipping wind and gas fumes, nothing, except possibly washing the car. I do not like to wash the car even on a bad day. Consequently, my gas tank is always empty and my car is filthy.
Yesterday was a cute day. I can always tell it will be a good day when my cowlicks are hardly noticeable and I do not have to lie down to button my jeans. Cute is relative, especially at my age, you take what you can get.
In my youth, leering cowboys with bull balls dangling from their bumpers would have been dismissed with an eye roll and a sneer. Not now, now, catcalls from migrant workers riding in the back of nondescript white pick up trucks are considered high praise. You take what you can get.
After I begrudgingly stopped for gas on the way to work, I noticed men staring. Men of all ages were looking and smiling, they were flirting I tell you! I discreetly checked to make sure a boob had not popped out of my sweater, but no, that was not it.
I wondered if it was the good hair, or the new wrinkle control moisturizer or possibly the Spanx (God bless the Spanx) making me so irresistible. I decided not to question it. Fabulous is as fabulous does.
All day it continued. Everywhere I went men noticed. One thing was certain. I could not pass up the opportunity to capture my undeniable appeal on film. My plan was to unleash the power of the glamour puss on every free dating site on the interwebs. Who knows if this sort of magnetism would ever happen again? Let the manhunt commence!
At first, I did not notice the car in the lane beside me. It was the arm waving that caught my attention. Well, that and the girls pointing and shrieking …Wait, Girls? My charms know no bounds. Either that or I have a flat tire. Damm.
Upon inspection, it was not a flat tire. Worse-- My imagined charm was just that. Imagined. What was not imagined was the anatomically correct, naked looking butt print; apparently, I leaned against my filthy automobile while pumping gas. All day I had been driving around with what amounted to a Playboy centerfold ass shot in dust on the side of my car.
Embarrassing? Yes, but at my age you take what you can get.
There is no way I am washing that car.
Let the manhunt commence!