Wednesday, July 24, 2013
'71 VW Tact
Bus: I feel a presence, Geo., something unfamiliar behind me.
Geo.: You mean back down the lane?
Bus: Yes, a disturbance in the force.
Geo.: Here, let me adjust your rearview mirror.
Bus: Good heavens! You didn't!
Bus: Nonsense. Look at it, brand new, frightened and squinting. It looks upset. It looks like it wants to hide in the weeds. Whereas I...
Geo.: I know, you are tall and proud and have served this family over 30 years. You've hauled children safely to and from school and to cities after they grew. You've carried tools, appliances, building materials, landscaping supplies and groceries reliably and without complaint. But your odometer has clocked over a million miles and it's time you joined Norma and me in retirement.
Bus: Soft sawder! I'm just a big ugly box on wheels and you'll probably sell me.
Geo.: You are, always have been and will be an extra room of our home, a magic room with wheels. We would not dream of selling you.
Bus: I said ugly too.
Geo. : You'll never be ugly to me, Bus. But now that you mention it, the newcomer is an attractive car.
Bus: I thought as much! Go ahead and say it.
Bus: Say it.
Geo.: Ok ok, it's a pretty car and I bought it because... well, even I need to feel pretty sometimes.
Bus: dumme Gans!
Geo. : Ich liebe dich auch.