I am driving along today in my ultra cool Oldsmobile station wagon, when I happen to notice wisps of smoke in front of my face. At first I dismissed it as a trick of my mind or maybe another thing that happens when you get old, you know--dry eyes, floating spots in my peripheral vision, and now I am seeing wisps of smoke. But it kept happening more frequently so I decided that either my crotch was on fire or I had some kind of electrical short in my steering column. Now I admit that my crotch is smoking hot--especially since the self-waxing job has grown out--but I am pretty sure it is coming from the car.
I called Alan who called our mechanic, Harvey. Alan then called me back and said that yes, it was probably an electrical short and it is probably fine to drive until tomorrow when they can get to it. However, Alan continues, if flames start shooting out of the steering column, I should pull over and stop driving the car. I am so thankful that I have men to give me such good advice, but they need not worry. If I am going to burn up in a car it is not going to be in an Oldsmobile station wagon going a law-abiding 45 mph, listening to talk radio while I am dropping my son off at art class. If I burn up in a car it will be while I am going 110 mph in a black and silver Lamborghini wearing a thong bikini, listening to Slayer and running from the police. Just saying.