Yesterday, Marvin and I drove to Winston-Salem to get up with my friend Marianne. Which you already knew if you read yesterday. But two and a half people read me on Saturday, so I am telling you again. Or maybe I am just turning into my grandmother and repeating myself constantly. Did I ever tell you how I was brought up in a gas station during the depression?
Winston-Salem is about 45 minutes from us, and as usual we argued about what we were going to listen to on the drive. Because Marvin brought a CD of the 8-track you used to get when you bought the 1969 Chrysler. This cheerful man comes on and tells you all the things you should notice as you drive your new Chrysler, like how there's a special odometer that can tell you how long you've traveled on each trip!
Do you see what I'm saying to you? Who wants to listen to that?
Finally we settled on my '70s station on Sirius, and I am sorry to tell you that Captain and Tennille's You Never Done it Like That came on.
If you were not alive during the '70s, the Captain and Tennille were this married couple who inexplicably had many many hit songs.
You Never Done it Like That is a song about Toni Tennille and her bob being very glad that some man has pulled out some new sexual technique.
"I really don't want to picture the Captain and Tennille doing it," I said to Marvin. "I know," he agreed.
After a moment, he said, "So what do you think he's doing?"
And I regret to inform you that the rest of our trip, we conjured up absolutely vile things that the Captain could have been doing to Tennille. Also too? We admitted we both pictured him doing all these things in his captain's hat.
Fortunately once we got up with Marianne (how much do you like me for continuing to say "got up with"?), there was a child present and we had to stop.
Marianne and her son Lake and an upside-down drink menu.
Most of the day was spent with Marvin and Lake trying to find yo-yos. Which, should I be worried that a nine-year-old wanted the same thing as a 43-year-old?
We also went to JC Penney, which I alluded to yesterday, and if you were one of the two and a half people who read me yesterday, I am certain you were on pins and needles about if I'd really get to go.
Turns out? Since I haven't been inside a Penney's since the Captain originally did it like that? They don't have furniture there. So there was no couch buying, or even observing. But Marianne and I did decide we had better take a picture looking outlandishly excited about SOMETHING in Penney's just to prove how boring we've become.
Why I gotta be the dramatic one?
Also, we saw a kiosk at the Penney's mall–and I'm certain whoever owns that mall is kissing me for referring to it as the Penney's mall–that made dog tags with your picture on them. Okay, who immediately wanted one? Who wastes her money at every turn? Marvin refused to take a picture with me, because he SUCKS, so Marianne did.
There's the picture we took. In a mere 850 minutes, they presented me with a lovely and tasteful dog tag. And yes, of course I picked up a scorpion belt.
Won't you enjoy my bosoms and my diamond-encrusted dog tag? Nice. I have no idea why I wanted this.
Finally, we headed home, and the '70s station played Leaving on a Midnight Train to Georgia, and Marvin said, "Okay, you sing the Gladys Knight part, and I'll be a pip."
I know you don't know Marvin, but I can tell from this picture that he is disputing something I'm saying right there. I can tell by the gesture. Sometimes I want to chop his arms clean off.
You KNOW I'm not allowed to sing in front of Marvin, so this was an exciting turn of events for yours truly.
"ON THAT MIDNIGHT TRAIN TO GEORGIA!" I think part of what offends Marvin is that not only do I sing badly, but also at the top of my lungs. Anyway, after a few minutes, Marvin started changing his parts.
"Leaving on a midnight train to get away from your voice. Woo-wooo!"
He should have married Toni Tennille.