Driving in FSJ

Lewiston ID

Description

I saw you on Friday. You were driving up 21st st when I was going down. You were wearing a bright red shirt which reminded me of the days when you wore a red vest, so long ago that the vacant shell of KMart across from us looked sadly on toward our missed connection from under a Spirit Halloween banner. You were driving your J-truck with a muscle grille while wearing your Peter Fonda driving gloves and cool guy wraparound mirror shades. I felt like you were an ebony haired, modern age Duke Nukem. I felt a tingle in my muscle at the sight of you and blew my air horns. You didn’t twitch at all. I felt dejected and proceeded to wave out my open window in your general direction. Still no response from you. Initially I thought you may not have heard my loud horns as it was possible that the exhaust note from your 258cid inline Six may have overpowered my big rig horns. Perhaps it was the calypso sounds of an undersea band lead by Sebastian caressing your shapely ears that left you deaf to my auditory advancement. Alas you neither heard nor saw me. Until next time sweet Prince.