A Nice Car

I’m not paying attention to the drift in the wheel.  The rumble strips graze the tire walls.  Small shake of the head.  Rub the face.

The off-ramp is caked with commuters patiently spacing themselves and zippering to repay a smile someone gave them earlier.

My old grey Mazda idles comfortably.  One hundred and fourteen miles logged, eight years old.  Corroded pock-marks on the hood.  The center consol is scratched.  Chip in the windshield.  She’s well worn but she’s mine.

A bright new black BMW pulls up beside me.  Signal on, stuffing itself to the right.  I look at myself in the polished reflection and wish I had more of everything.

The driver wears expensive sunglasses.  Scratch resistant lenses, warranty plan, the works.  He checks his phone at the stop-light. He has somewhere important or at least large to be.

Then, just as jealousy takes a hold of my hand, a God damn Maserati pulls out in front of him!  Are you kidding me?  Who drives a freaking Maserati in Pittsburgh???  That’s like a hundred thousand dollar car…

The sunglasses shield the man’s hungry eyes.  His mouth just open enough to allow a little envy through.  And his beautiful sedan starts to shrink.

I look back to my familiar dash, a little dusty, the digital odometer missing a line on the four.  I pat her on the head and give it a little gas.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s