Going out in a Ford Fairlane
I knew when I heard the bang of a door slam downstairs that I was about to have to get up. I was deep in denial.I heard feet clomp down the hallway. They clomped down to the door to the stairs, and then it opened. They clomped up the stairs, and then I heard them softly mash little patches of carpet from the stairs to my bed.
My bed shook like a small earthquake.
"Humm zuh?" I said.
"Get up! It's time to go!"
"Super!" my brain said to my body. "We want to go!"
"GO fuck yourself!" my muscles told it. Eventually my brain ordered my muscles to move my bones and joints and poke my melon out of the warm nest of my covers. The sanctuary of my bed was being jostled by an intruding foot belonging to my housemate Becky.
"Ugh Mchub zuh?" I challenged.
"Get up!"
I got up. I was wearing my cheeta print undershorts. "Check out my fancy pants, huh?" I said, pulling on my jeans.
"Good god, let's go"
I got dressed. It was almost 10pm. I smelled something odd. Almost like something... burning?
"Burning...?" my brain asked my eyes.
"BURNING!" my eyes shouted! They spotted that I had accidentally poked a corner of one of my blankets into the candle burning beside my bed. I got it out. It was hot, but not burning.
"Holy balls!" my mouth said.
"Nice." Becky approved.
"Now why the hell would you let me do such a thing?" I asked her.
We went down the stairs and outside of the Casa Fidel musician compound to where Becky parked her ancient 1960's Ford Fairlane wagon. Becky fired it up as I slid into the front seat. She eased it around the big house and down the driveway.
"This is where I slid last week." she said about halfway down the steep hill. "See that tree we hit?"
She indicated a small tree off to the right which was at a somewhat untreelike angle.
"Huh!" I said. "Nice bit of driving, there"
"Well, Frog did that. I would have driven it right into the wall."
Her ancient car rumbled and grumbled as it slurped greedily at its gas. We crept to the bottom of the hill into the street, and Becky eased her shoe down onto the footprint gas pedal. The engine stuttered, and then roared, and we lurched on our way downtown.
I was planning on getting drunk and walking around the bar district to see all my housemates play. Becky's old car chugged authoritatively, and closed the distance between us and a fun Saturday night.
It was November, and everything was okay.
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