Picked Up Shirley Bassey Hitchhiking

Dust had settled into the gold sequins of her gown. She had her legs up on the dashboard, showing me the chipped polish on her toes. She kept her gaze out the window, her coiffed hair making it hard for me to see what she was seeing. When I first picked her up, I asked her if she wanted to have fun, fun, fun. Shirley told me she heard that joke every time she went hitchhiking. She still did the fingers-on-the-hip move for me before she got in my Honda Civic. I asked Shirley where she wanted to go. She told me to take her somewhere where you could get a slice of sweet potato pie for under a dollar. I told her I didn’t know anywhere like that. She sighed, then guessed that we’d be driving for a long time. We’ve been driving for eight hours since. She said she’d give me four more before she’d find another driver.