That Bug

“You and that Bug,” he said, looking at me over his spectacles. It’s the customary look received upon stepping into his office (for me, anyway).

Yep. That Bug and me. The perfect pair.

I had my mom’s Suzuki Forenza today, and she took Bubbles. Why? Because I feared Bubbles lacked room to haul Adam and his belongings back home from Fredonia. Turns out Bubbles would have done the job just fine (Adam doesn’t over pack like I do). Flo (Mom’s car) is nice. She drives well and barely requires a touch of the pedal to get her going.  She even has an aux in outlet, and, with a chord, I can play my iPod flawlessly. What Flo doesn’t have is my personality. Bubbles does.

Bubbles is my baby. She’s a “she” not an “it” and I love her to death. It may seem odd for a person to have such an intense relationship with his/her car. But, if you think it’s odd, then you don’t know me and the way I think.

“You and that Bug.”

Yep, me and that Bug. [Excuse the “me and.” It adds emphasis.]

 

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