Late morning on a Saturday in lovely downtown Easthampton. Also known throughout the land as "errand time." Josh and I dutifully race to get to the bank, the post office, AND the vet (since our cats are all such delicate hothouse flowers they all require special veterinarian-crafted kibbles) before they collectively close at noon.
Preceding us into the bank drive-thru is one of those fideous new pickup trucks. The kind that looks like the offsping of a juiced up El Camino and a refrigerator. It's sparkling white, obviously never sullied by even a thought of off-roading. As we followed it in, I noticed the telltale logo on the back.
"A Cadillac pickup truck? Really?"
At this point, Cadillac would have lost my attention, if it weren't for the fact that it was blocking all three drive-thru lanes, trying to decide which one would move the quickest. It nearly backs over us making its final decision. We take our place behind the bumpersticker-bedecked progressive democrat Honda in another lane.
A few moments later, Cadillac second-guesses itself and nearly takes out a few other cars switching lanes.
Imagine my delight when the line Cadillac had abandoned suddenly shoots forward, while Cadillac's line remains stubbornly stationary. I didn't even mind that progressive democrat Honda is obviously marching to the beat of a different drive-thru lane, and not noticing that the cars ahead of her are no longer there. Josh wonders if she is playing hackeysack in her car. I muse on the possibility that her banking transactions, like her bumperstickers, include a request to impeach Bush and Cheney. This could take a while.
So long, in fact, that Cadillac has made it to the front of its line. As Josh struggles with the fact that his window is too far away from the pneumatic banking tube, I watch Cadillac exit the drive-thru. I silently pray that progressive democrat Honda will sideswipe Cadillac, but that's just too much karmic justice for one errand.
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