scenes from a mall parking lot
November 02, 2004, 5:37 pm

"Push in the clutch."
"Like this?"
"Yeah. Good. Now turn the key."

Click.

"Uh, what am I doing wrong?"
"Is your foot on the brake?"
"Yeah."
"Uh, are you really pushing down on the clutch?"
"Yes!"
"Try it again."

Click.

"WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME THAT I CAN'T DO THIS?!?!"
"Try it again."
"Okay."

Rrrrum! Rrruum! Click.

"What did I do?"
"You let go of the clutch."
"I got excited that the car started."
"Try it again."

Click.

"Again."

Click.

"UGH! Did I break your car?"
"Get out. Let me try."

Rrrum. Rrrum.

"Hey Jess?"
"Yes?"
"Tell your mother that the reason she is missing a crab hat is because her daughter never learned to drive stick."
"You bastard."
"Heh heh heh!"

Drives away. Comes back.

"Seriously Jess, thank you."
"For what?"
"For being so damn awesome. Do you know how lucky I am to have you? I thank God every morning, while I'm eating my eggs for you. Seriously. That sounds dumb, but I mean it."
"Well, thanks. Give me back the Crab Hat."
"No."
"Goddamn you."
"Jess?"
"What?"
"Sleep tight."

End scene. All brought to you by two finally sober people in the Jillian's parking lot at four a.m. after bowling under the names "Walter" and "Donnie", drinking their respective weights in $5 beer, and shutting down TGIFriday's.

By the way, despite us spending nearly 96 hours together weekly, he's just not that into me. You may digest that information at your leisure.

Did you vote, my little darlings? Of course you did; you're the educated elite, you're the proud, and you're the reason America rules. America, FUCK YEAH!