i had the pleasure of driving three girls home from cheerleading practice once.
of course, pleasure is relative.
some, i suppose, would call it pleasurable to shove a red hot poker in their ear.
it was at best a ten minute drive, during which i estimated no less than fifty-seven cell phone calls had occurred.
and the girls carried on the identical conversations using only seven short responses: hello, oh my god, he did, get out, shut up, whatever, later.
that evening i shoved a red hot poker in my ear.
and surprisingly, it turned out to be considerably more pleasurable than driving with girls.
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