I was on the freeway with my mom, stuck in traffic. The guy nest to us had a white 60's-era Cadillac convertible which he'd restored. The interior was all blood red velvet, including the DASH and the door panels. Around the windshield, he'd added bright orange dingle-ball fringe trim. He had the stereo cranked to some mariachi band and he was singing along. He turned, saw my mom and I looking at him and NO LIE! Licks his index and pinkie fingers, runs them OVER HIS EYEBROWS to smooth them down, then pursed his lips and blew us a kiss.
From the passenger seat, I hear my mom say in this deadpan voice, "Yeah baby, I want to ride in THAT Love Machine.... All it needs is the black velvet painting of Elvis...Oh wait, that's in the trunk...."
I busted up laughing so hard I went into a coughing fit.
at 12:05 PM on Nov. 17, 2010