Walking through a parking lot yesterday, I passed a Chevy of some kind (I think) with Connecticut tags wrapped with a chrome frame with black lettering inset that, above the plate, read: "Sexually Deprived" while below it, "For Your Security and Protection."
I had walked perhaps three full steps beyond the car when my brain managed to make my legs stop as it finally processed what my eyes had told it and I walked back to take a second look. Yep, that's what it said.Would that there had been nothing more, both I and Edgar Allan might have been content, but no.
On the back window shelf, facing whomever would be following the car, was a stuffed brown and white toy bear, maybe ten inches high or tall, wearing a red negligee and black racing goggles. Looking again at the car (tearing myself away from the Teddy in a teddy was an herculean struggle) I realized the car's tires had four different rims, not wheel covers, as well. If the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse decide to use the HOV lane, I have a funny feeling I've just spotted the vehicle.
I've spent a great deal of time between then and now pondering all of this, and not just because my life is surprisingly empty (not to anyone else but to me, constantly). I'm looking for an explanation that would, in turn, lead me to a conclusion as to meaning and I have to tell you, I have nothing. Nichts, Nada, Zip.
I'm left to wonder if it's part of a postcard from a brave new world tomorrow or just more roadkill on the human highway. I fear it's a whole lot of nothing and a little bit of everything.