Why, yes, I’d love to go for a ride in your convertible. Thank you.
It’s the freedom of the open road. The wind in your hair. Living the good life. We’ll look really cool. It’s about so much more than simply getting from A to B.
We’re all about the road.
Will you turn up the radio? I like this old Police song.
(I said, louder, please! I’m having a hard time hearing it over the wind and traffic!)
“Packed like lemmings into shiny metal boxes / contestants in a suicidal race…”
On second thought, never mind. Suddenly I feel exposed, sitting atop this speeding chunk of metal. I mean, it’s a fair safety tradeoff. Look how well we can see all the nearby racing boxes.
Let’s turn off the radio and just be in the moment.
We’re living life! Why live if you can’t feel alive?
Let’s bask in the open air. Feel the freedom.
(Do you have any dental floss in the glove compartment? I caught a bug in my teeth.)
This car is a metaphor. Driving around with the ragtop down, we’ve removed the ceiling. There are no limits. Take off your top! Show the world your boobs! Just make sure to put suntan lotion on them, because now you’ve got the hot, damaging rays of the sun beating down on you. (At least it’s not raining.)
And don’t forget the wind. The gently whipping wind at 70 MPH, and now the smogulent breeze at 20 MPH as we slow down for this traffic clot.
We’ve come to a standstill, but at least we’re not all cramped and penned up like these lemmings in front of us.
Breathe in…
ah…
Fragrant exhaust.
We are alive.
SCREAMING BRAKES! CRUNCH OF IMPACT!
We are at one with the road.
