Friday, September 01, 2006

Undercarriage bling

This morning I was thinking about my post yesterday about girly cars, and I started wondering about manly cars. Like, you know, truuuucks and SUVs. But you can't really put all trucks into the manly car category, because there are those bright yellow beach-lifeguard trucks that aren't manly at all. And SUVs are the same way, because no matter how you slice it, a Suzuki Sidekick just ain't a testosterone-charged vehicle. In my humble opinion, no men at all should have been allowed to purchase anything with Geo badging on it (remember those? Geos? I remember the Geo Storm and that's about it, only because my best friend in high school desperately wanted one, and had even come up with her own kicky personalized license plate for it, which I can no longer recall).

So I was thinking about the whole man-vehicle thing when driving to work, when I changed lanes and swung in behind a very manly truck. And I had just thought, "Now that's a man's truck" when something hanging below it caught my eye. For whatever reason, the man driving the manly truck had decided he needed to further flaunt his manhood by hanging rubber testicles from his undercarriage. That's right, people. Balls. Hanging. From. His. Undercarriage.

What on earth would possess someone to do this? And you know, it was like driving by the scene of an accident. I didn't want to look and yet my eye was drawn to them. Swaying in the breeze. Hangin' out for the world to see.

I got back into the other lane as quickly as I could, because I didn't want to be "The Girl Looking at The Rubber Testicles," but it was too late. I knew they were there, and I could still see them. At least I wasn't right behind them.

Before too long I was able to zip past and see the driver. I had fully expected a redneck mullet in a wifebeater blasting country music and was shocked to see a perfectly respectable, salt-and-pepper bearded gentleman. So, of course, my mind began leaping for an explanation. Here's what I came up with: a.) his car is in the shop and he had to borrow someone else's or b.) he doesn't know he's parading rubber testicles because someone else put them there for a joke. I prefer b., because I think if my car were in the shop, I'd rather walk or ride the bus than be caught driving a testicular truck. But then again, I'm a girl. Still, you don't see me with boobies on my bumper. Well, not every day, anyway.


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