Car Trouble (Part 1)

So there I was in the middle of the road waiting for my brother to come help me change my flat tire. For all my somewhat butch tendencies (wear plaid once and suddenly you’re butch. Well that escalated quickly.) I had neglected to master the art of changing a tire. Waiting for my brother irked me and I vowed to myself that the next time I was in the garage I’d get a lesson in changing a tire and minor engine functions. Besides I’d always wanted to wear a beater and coveralls while wielding a wrench and looking like I was effortlessly oozing sexual innuendo. I blame Michelle Rodriguez from Fast and Furious.

Suddenly, a car pulling up jolted me from my musings. Sure it was daylight, high noon even, but kidnappers had no set schedule and I was a paranoid fucker. The driver’s door opened and a pair of Ferragamo pumps followed by smooth brown legs appeared. Eager to see the owner of such amazing legs, my eyes tracked upwards and saw a stunning brunette dressed in a Versace a-line dress. Now I dress like the broke college student I am but that doesn’t mean I don’t know couture when I see it. Joan Rivers helped quite a bit. Plus my fetish for drooling over well dressed women. Whatever, you do it too. Heck even the gecko that lives behind your bedroom door does it too.

So anyway, the unknown lady comes out of her car and in a voice that would make you sell your baby, asks me,
“Car trouble?”
She has to repeat the question because I stand there gaping unattractively for about ten seconds before choking out an answer.
“Uhm..yeah, flat tire”
“I can help with that if you like,” she replies.
I eye her outfit dubiously. Her blouse alone looked like it cost two months of my salary. When I worked over time. 7 days a week. And survived on boiled water and my next door neighbour’s kitchen scent. You get the picture.
“You sure?” I asked hesitantly.
“What, you don’t think I can change a flat tire?”
“No, no, it’s just that…” I trailed off gesturing to her pristine expensive blouse.
“Oh that?” She smirked. “I can take it off.”
More unattractive gaping was my response.
Car Trouble

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