First a little Road Trip experiment: how many consecutive days can a blogger drive before she falls face first in her platter of Key West shrimp?
Answer: twenty-nine. Bossy is tanking.
Lucky thing Saturn provided a surge of excitement when they arrived at the home of Bossy’s Chicago host to exchange Bossy’s cars:
Meet Bossy’s brand new Chicago husband. That’s him approaching Bossy’s Saturn Aura, which she has been driving since San Francisco. Bossy doesn’t actually know her Chicago husband’s name, but she is going to call him André:
When people ask André why he fell in love with Bossy, he will point to the dirty socks and stool softeners that Bossy keeps behind the passenger seat and he’ll chuckle lovingly.
And when people ask Bossy why she fell in love with André, she’ll say it was when André taught her how to open her trunk by pushing the little button. Because it’s not just that he taught her how to open her trunk, but that he so patiently pointed and said, “It would be that button right there, the one that looks like an open trunk.”
And Bossy’s husband André didn’t just bring Bossy a new trunk and the button to open that trunk, Bossy’s husband André brought Bossy a whole new shiny red car:
After Bossy was finished loading her new car with various water bottles and running shoes and used washcloths and gum wrappers and wrinkled sweatshirts, Bossy and her husband André enjoyed a honeymoon, and this honeymoon was a walk all the way to the end of her host’s driveway. And then, André?
Wait—where are you going? André?
And has Bossy mentioned her Chicago host, who is Bossy’s literary soul sister, and a great advisor, supporter, giggler, and drinker of afternoon wine: