I fail at freeway ogling

As I hit the freeway last night heading to downtown with the top off the jeep to look for trouble, I blasted my music and grinned with the joy of having wind in my hair.
While singing along to Queen, I passed one of those little Mazdas with the goofy skinny tires and custom paint job not unlike a metallic granny smith apple. I happened to glance to the left as I passed and the kid in the passenger seat did a double take.

Now – that’s weird – and never happens. So I was a little surprised when the driver gunned his engine (you know, the street racer wannabe with the high pitched whine) they sped past me and once they were fifty feet or so ahead of me on the left he hit his brakes and swerved a little as the passenger leaned out the window and started yelling god knows what.

Everything happened at once, the driver clipped his side-mirror on the median guard, the passenger fell sideway back onto the driver and I started screaming, “Watch it you fucking little skidmark!” as I dodged his frantic attempt to gain control of a car that evidently had too much power for him to handle.

I didn’t have time to be flattered by the attention as I scrambled to avoid a possible accident. When things settled and people stopped honking, the passenger leaned out again and blew me an air kiss before they sped off down 84.

I haven’t had anyone double take at me for longer than I can remember. I should have been flattered but they were young enough that I could have put them over my knees and paddled their stupid asses.

“Dumbasses,” I hissed and skipped to the next song.

Right then, I happened to glance to the left again and the truck passing me had the hottest man I’ve ever seen on the freeway. He was driving a white pickup with some kind of red farm equipment in the back and GOOD LORD he was fine! Dark hair. Tanned skin and deep set beautiful eyes.

I forgot my name. Forgot that I was driving. Queen blasted ‘Fat Bottom Girls’ in the background while I zoned out and immediately fell into a fantasy about his royal hotness as he cleaned the pool at my apartment complex and…
HONK! HOOOOOONK!

I grabbed my steering wheel as I’d been drifting into the lane on my right. He looked over at the sudden commotion of a red topless jeep swerving erratically to gain control.
My face flamed and I ducked my head so he wouldn’t see I’d been staring at him then promptly changed lanes and took the next exit to get away.

So I found myself on the loop through the Hollywood district, way out of my way, hissing at myself.

“Dumbass.”

I fail.