Atticus and I were out for his evening constitutional the other night, and as we were sniffing our way along the sidewalk, searching for just the perfect place to transact our business, a car came to a screeching halt on Prospect Place, intent on grabbing the last available parking space on the block.
I was momentarily alarmed for the puppy's safety, but my concern was arrested almost immediately when I saw the passenger in the car that was backing (at, still, an alarming rate) into this open parking space.
"Geez," I thought to myself, "that old lady's perm is really tight and kinda ugly."
That's when I realized that it wasn't an old lady seatbelted into the front seat of the car.
I was momentarily alarmed for the puppy's safety, but my concern was arrested almost immediately when I saw the passenger in the car that was backing (at, still, an alarming rate) into this open parking space.
"Geez," I thought to myself, "that old lady's perm is really tight and kinda ugly."
That's when I realized that it wasn't an old lady seatbelted into the front seat of the car.
No comments:
Post a Comment