This morning driving to work, Stoker and I were laughing our heads off (we carpool). It was great. We passed a big fat, white Ford pickup with a sticker on it that said, “I’d rather be gold mining.” We thought that was hilarious. The funniest thing I’d seen all week.
But I think we were both really tired and so everything that’s not usually funny, was extra funny. I was making fun of an even bigger, black Dodge truck with humongous wheels, a ten-foot lift (I swear, it had to be) and tinted windows. I told Stoker we could have driven his Mazda 626 right under it, barely shaving the top of our car off. I also suggested that the guy probably had a collection of porn under his bucket seats. They go together, the mentality of must-have-big-ass-truck-grunt-grunt with me-like-many-fake-naked-women-in-various-positions-of-being-dominated (minus the fake part -- to explain, people into porn convince themselves it’s real, and see the world that way, that every person walking around is just waiting to let their hungry, sexy beast out, waiting to dominate or be subjugated, naked and screaming for more. While the reality is that we’re all screaming inside our skin for love, to cherish someone and be cherished. Call me idealistic. Call me stupid. If you do, I’ll tell you to go to hell because I’m right). Anyway, Stoker laughed because he’s heard all this before, from me, and probably worries that he’ll have to hear it for THE REST OF HIS LIFE. Disclaimer: he’s never said anything like that. I said it. He’s always spoken of how he can’t wait to spend the rest of his life with me. He likes to imagine us when we’re 40 (and he’s 36, ha ha), when we’re 55 (51), where we’ll be, what we’ll be doing and if we’ll still go on epic walks like the first one we went on.
Seriously. I get unduly annoyed by gargantuan trucks. I think of what Freud might say about men with absurdly large vehicles. Hmmm. Stoker suggested that the driver of the enormous, black Dodge (it should have been in a monster truck rally) might be a girl. And I laughed and said in that case it would be very cool because it would be in defiance of stereotypes. Especially if she was beautiful and straight. If she’d been butch and, well, butch, then it would have only been mildly funny, by virtue of being in alliance with stereotypes. Butch women are always funny, unless one has you cornered in a bar or bathroom.
Anyway, I’d rather be gold mining. I would. I really would. Or sitting on a beach in Tahiti with Stoker. Yes.