Yesterday we were caught in a traffic jam. There was a
The patidev spouts, “Looks like an @%$*#$@.”
I’d have fallen off the seat but for the belt.
“Language, honey! There’s a kid in the backseat.”
He continues, “But it really does. You’re looking at the logo, aren’t you?”
He knows me too well. I sure was looking at the logo on the behind of the car.
And I hate to admit that it does look somewhat.. er.. anatomical. It’s even placed so strategically, you know.
“It’s diamond-shaped,” I valiantly tried to defend the guy who designed it.
“Only the hole is. The rest of it looks…”
“Alright, alright.”
Even through the stony silence, I could hear him laugh out loud in his mind.
“Can’t we move away from this car?”
Now the chuckle was audible.
“No place.”
Of course I needn’t tell you that now every time there’s a jam, the beloved specially looks for this car and stops right behind it. He looks for Meru cabs to follow when traffic is slow moving.
And I seriously think that car needs to put on a pair of trousers.
