A Cautionary Tale

No, I haven't been mangled by a wreck on I-95 (hopefully never will), nor have I given up the DC commute for the simple life (I wish). I'm still here, but very little happens these days that could be blog worthy. I've settled into a decent routine that doesn't involve a whole lot of interesting stories. But now I have one that is absolutely worth coming back for!

Here goes (Warning, this posting may offend the particularly chaste):

I jumped into the backseat of a dark, mid-sized SUV for my ride into work. I didn't recognize this woman and had to ask if she was, indeed, going to my destination. She confirmed, and off we went.

As usual, I settled in for my quick nap with my excess baggage on the floor at my feet. I closed my eyes and dreamed of happier places and happier times. As if an internal alarm were set, I woke up 2 blocks from my office building and began to gather up my bags and gloves. It was at this point that I noticed something out of the ordinary in the dark floorboard behind the driver's seat.

The sun was not yet up, as I am required to be at work before the dead are required to awaken, and it was hard to tell what I was seeing at first. I turned to look more closely, squinting my eyes to better make out the figure in the floor. It was bright, bright fluorescent orange. The kind of orange you'd find in a roadside safety kit. After further inspection, I realized that this object did not fall loose from a roadside safety kit. At least no roadside safety kit that I've ever seen available for purchase.

There in the floor behind the driver's seat sat a bright orange, black-tipped, vibrator.

Whatever her emergency needs may be, at least she was being safety conscious. Now I have to go home and burn my winter coat, gloves, handbag, and carry-all bag before immersing myself in a boiling hot vat of acid.