I stuck my head out of the window as Chivman threw my car into 3rd gear, feeling the last warm breath of summer caress my face. Even at 1 am, the air was soft, damp, comforting, or maybe I was still basking in the afterglow of Chivman’s touch. The smell of cows caused a momentary curl in my upper lip.
“Its smells like Nebraska out here,” I said in haughty Colorado fashion.
Chivman ignored me and looked down at my Odometer.
“How many miles did this have on it when you bought it?”
“And how long have you had it?”
“Uh, 2-3 months?”
Chivman gave me his patented Scorpio look: A combination of snide accusation and half-incredulous endearment. His brown eyes pierced mine, a half smile on his lips. I turned red and grinned sheepishly.
“I know, I’ve been bad to my car. I’ve already put like 2,000 miles on it.”
“Try 4,000,” Chivman said.
I sat straight up. “WHAT?!”
Chivman released his deep throaty laugh into the wee hours of the night. He stared at me, wondering how I could sit in front of the Odometer everyday and NOT notice this. What can I say? I’m a Pisces, we notice rainbows and when the moon is full, not the 4,000 mile difference on our Odometers.
I pinched my eyebrow, a habit I picked up while Tweaking during the summer of 2004. I looked at Chivman, who’s eyes danced humorously in the darkness of the driver’s seat. I regarded the mileage I’ve put on my car this summer. Is the Scorpio lure strong enough to entice a fish to move across the state?
I wanted to slap myself.
I hope I’m stronger than that. I’m not a puppet anymore. I have a backbone. I am responsible. I am NOT the Foolish Traveler. I have many good reasons NOT involving hot sex for wanting to make this change.
However, when I’m inahaling the intoxicating scent of a scorpion, its hard to think about anything else.