Two girls walk into a car dealership.
No, that's not the opening line to a really bad joke.
That's just the next logical step in the life of a newly licensed driver.
Granted, it's kind of a big step for someone who's only had a license for 5 days, but I'm nothing if not impetuous. One salesman told us enigmatically that if we walked around to the lake, any big fish that we caught we could take home for free. Another one told me that the car I was test driving was for "girls and fags." I told him it was a good thing I was a little bit of both. When another asked if Rory and I were roommates (roommates mind you, the kind that induce eyebrow wiggling and crotch grabbing, not simply roommates that split the rent), we were starting to get just a little put out. A good (guy) friend of mine offered to come with me to kick the wheels and such but I was stomping around car lots with an I-don't-need-a-man mentality.
And I didn't, in the end.
Weird conversation with Litgo:
Litgo is admiring my killer silver heels.
Me: My shoes can do way more damage than your shoes.
Him: In more ways than one.
Him: My shoes are vegan.
Me: Your shoes don't eat meat?
I fell off the bandwagon of the 40-day challenge.
Well, actually, I was pushed.
I took a shortcut to restoring my blood sugar and I'm not really sorry about it either.
But now I'm back on, and I'm willing to add on extra days for penance.