Small world

One morning last week on the way home from the gym I was sitting at a stop light close to our house right next to a PT Cruiser that had a lightning bolt decal running out from the engine, up and across the door. An involuntary noise escaped my mouth, a “PAAAACKKKKOOOWWWW!” And I realized that the lightning bolt was using me as a medium to say hello.

When I got home I wrote this tweet:

Okay. So. Someone driving a PT Cruiser with a lightning bolt decal is exhibiting a certain kind of taste. I’m not saying that my taste is better (well, I guess that’s exactly what I’m saying), but it says to me: I proudly own a denim couch. Or: a Native American dream catcher hangs above my toilet.

Anyway, it was just a joke. But as always, someone has to be upset by the joke, and while all of us were sitting around at lunch I brought this up. I was like, some people take their PT Cruisers very seriously, I did not know this, but going forward I will carry this revelation with me and not jump to conclusions when a PT Cruiser pulls up next to me and I can hear Creed on its stereo.

Right then Tyrant goes, “Wait. Stop. What color was it?”

“Maroon,” I answered.

“Was the lightning bolt yellow?” he asked.

“Yes,” I said. “They got the color of the lightning bolt right! Credit where credit it due!”

“And you were at the stop light right over there?” He pointed toward the west side of the house.

“That exact one.”

He smiled. “That car belongs to my friend Fernando.”

“Shut up.”

“I’m serious.”

Shut up.”

“I’m totally serious.”


“He lives in my building.”


As he pulled out his phone to show me a picture of Fernando wearing giant sunglasses and a shirt unbuttoned to his belly button, he said “Honey, let me assure you that he gets more ass than everyone at this table combined.”