Carrie had suggested we go for a ride in her new two door BMWcoop.
In the parking lot we slipped into her bucket seats. Carrie tookover from there.
At nearly 90 miles per hour she zipped us up to that windy edgeknown to some as Mul Holland (?),
a sinuous road running the ridge of the Santa Monica Mountains.
Where she then proceeded to pump her vehicle in and out ofturns.
Sometimes droping down to 50 miles per hour, only to immediatelygun it back up to 90 again.
Fast, slow. Fast, fast. Slow.
Sometimes were wide turns. Sometimes a quick one.
She preferred the tighter ones, the sharp controlled jerkswinging left to right before driving back to the right.
Only so she could do it all over again.
Until after enough speed, and enough wind and more distance thenI'd been prepared to expect.
Taking me to parts of the city I rarely think of and never visit,I heard her say...
Hey pretty, don't you wanna take a ride with me, through myworld?
Hey pretty, don't you wanna kick and slide through my world?
Do you get the gist of the song now?
I can't remember the inane things I started babbling aboutthen.
I knew it didn't really matter. She wasn't listening.
She just yanked up on the emergency brake, dropped her seat backand told me to lie on top of her.
On top of those leather pants of hers. Her hands immediatelyguiding mine over those soft, slightly oily folds.
Positioning my fingers on the shiny metal tabs. Small and roundlike a tear.
Then murmmering a murmmer so inaudible that even though I couldfeel her lips tremble against my ear,
she seemed far, far away.
"Pinch it," she said, which I did lightly.
Until she also said, "pull it," which I also did.
Gently parting the teeth one at a time down, under and beneaththe longest unzipping of my life.
Hey pretty, don't you wanna take a ride with me, through myworld?
Hey pretty, don't you wanna kick and slide through my world?
Hey pretty, my pretty baby, rock it through my world.
Hey pretty, my pretty baby, rock it through my world.
We never even kissed or looked into each others' eyes.
Our lips just trespassed on those inner labyrinths hidden deepwithin our ears.
Filled them with the private music of wicked words. Hers in manylanguages.
Mine in the off color of my only tongue.
Too bad dark languages rarely survive.
Hey pretty, my pretty baby.
Don't you wanna take a ride with me?
Don't you wanna take a ride with me?
My baby, my pretty baby.
Rock it through my world.
Do you get the gist of the song now?
