And I mean really. Why? Why did an image of him plowing into me real hard in my back seat seem the least bit sexy? Because it does. Girls who go at it in the back seat of their cars are pretty skanky. Unless they’ve been with the guy… or girl, I don’t judge… for a while. If you’ve stuck it out long enough, go forth and christen every surface of your home or motor vehicle.
He raises an eyebrow. I must have been spacing out. I roll down the window. “Um, yeah, I’m Rachel. You the AAA guy?”
He smiles and nods. Damn. Nice teeth. That’s a plus. “Yes. My name is Ian Boyd…”
Hm, Rachel Boyd has a nice ring to it…
“… err, you’ve had some engine trouble tonight, right?”
“Yes, that’s right.” The layers of clothing might make me appear fatter than I am. My sister said eating too much salt makes the skin under your chin hang longer making it look like you’ve got a double chin. Do I look like that right now? I am not obese. I may not like the way I look in a bikini but I rock a halter one-piece like it’s no one’s business.
“Alright I’m going to pull up the truck and hook you up- err hook up your car that is and get us out of here.”
Wait, did he say hook me up?
“If you’ll step out, ‘maam, you can sit in the truck with me to get you all settled tonight.”
I smile. “Oh, okay.”
I’m sitting in the front seat of his tow truck, heat blasting because stepping outside for one second felt like being a member of the Polar Bear club. Still, it’s a nice view because I’m not-so-shamelessly checking out his butt.
I look around the dash of his truck. There’s a photo sticking out of the pull down mirror. He’s not looking and I pull it down. A bunch of other photos come spilling out too of course. I gather them up and check again. Good, he’s not looking.
Aw, there’s a few with a dog. Looks like a mutt- maybe a rescue. Good, animal lover. One with an older gentlemen. They look alike. Guessing that’s his dad or his uncle. Full head of hair that’s nice. Bald wouldn’t be a deal breaker, but nothing to shake a stick at either. Then there’s a wedding thank you card. Ian’s all dressed up with rolled up sleeves and a grey tweed vest next to a black couple, the bride and groom. ‘Best. Best-Man. Ever. Thanks so much from Carol and me. Love ya Ian … PS Pineapples, am I right?!‘ Aw that’s so cute! Wait! That is one sick Tibetan tiger tattoo he’s got branded on his arm!
I’m beginning to rethink my stance on back-seat hook-ups. Heh. Hey, but you never know. He’s looking like a keeper…
“‘Maam? Can I help you?” Fuck, he’s in the car and his photos are in my hand.
***
Man, she’s pretty. But, ha, she kind of looks like Nana’s cat all
bundled up in layers like that. Yup, that just happened. I just
compared this girl to my Nana’s cat. Smooth. Does she bring all
those clothes with her just in case or what? I mean being prepared is
a good thing. It would have been terrifying to come here and find a
woman in hypothermia.I’m not sure which would have made me more upset. Finding an old bat frozen in her car or Rachel here. That’s a terrible thought. I’m going to stop right there.
“Um, yeah, I’m Rachel. You the AAA guy?” Man, I have a thing for Asian girls. It’s not like I’m not attracted to other women but Asian women. It’s not a fetish, guys that fantasize about geishas and shit are pretty gross. But I don’t know what it is. Maybe it’s their eyes. They are kind of beautiful.
“Yes. My name is Ian Boyd… ” I smile, awkwardly I think because I pause almost waiting for a reaction but I don’t get any. “…err, you’ve had some engine trouble tonight, right?”
“Yes, that’s right.” Rachel’s eyes are kind of beautiful. Jerome says it’s not racist to like one kind of woman over another. It’s like saying you’re racist because you like women with big tits. It’s just a preference. And he’s black so that means… no. That’s not right…
“Alright I’m going to pull up the truck and hook you up- err hook up your car that is and get us out of here.” Fuck. Fucking mouth. With your stupid fuck ups. Now she’s going to think all I want to do is hook up with her.
I think I see her smirk. Not sure if that’s a sympathy smirk…
The cold is getting to me. Alright, stop day dreaming and get to work. “If you’ll step out, ‘maam, you can sit in the truck with me to get you all settled tonight.”
“Oh, okay.”
Oh, okay? That’s not a good sign. She doesn’t seem interested. I don’t think. I help her into the truck and turn up the heat and get back to work. Turning around again and getting another look at her ride, yeah. It’s a nice car. She has nice taste. I could have figured out just looking at her. She left all her extra layers in her back seat, only taking her blanket into the truck.
In the back seat of her car is a bouquet of flowers. Fuck, she has a man. Oh, wait a minute. There’s a photo of Rachel with a baby and another woman in a hospital gown. ‘Thanks Auntie Rachel! Xoxo Your Favorite Nephew, William‘ These flowers are fresh. Her sister must have had a kid. Well congrats!
There’s also a tote bag tucked away in the back seat with a bunch of yarn and some knitting needles. There’s a long scarf folded and stuck into the bag. It’s got this nifty braided thing going on with neon yarn. Huh, she’s crafty. That’s nice. I’ve always found women who create something are of a better caliber than those that just buy everything. Maybe I’m making that shit up but my ex didn’t make anything. Not even toast. Just ate cold Pop Tarts every morning for breakfast. Kind of like how she ate our my heart in cold blood.
I’m feeling like a cold Pop Tart myself so I finish up my work and head over to the car. Maybe start up a conversation or something. Rachel seems like a nice person… a nice, cute person…
I open the driver’s seat door and Rachel’s looking at my photos. “‘Maam? Can I help you?”
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