{"id":4786,"date":"2016-06-24T06:54:01","date_gmt":"2016-06-24T10:54:01","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/sherlonya.net\/blog\/?p=4786"},"modified":"2016-06-22T06:55:55","modified_gmt":"2016-06-22T10:55:55","slug":"traffic-2","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/sherlonya.net\/blog\/2016\/06\/traffic-2\/","title":{"rendered":"Traffic #2"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"serialnovel\"<\/a>Megan noticed, as all women learn to at one point or another, that it was taking all of the effort that he had to keep his eyes aimed at hers. Upon reaching his car, she had realized her power, his vulnerability. And who said she wasn\u2019t spontaneous? Gary had said it. She wished her boyfriend could see her there in her spontaneous splendor. Maybe it just took a traffic jam, but the impulsiveness, what did he call it, \u201cjust live-life\u201d was there. She could be whimsical if, of course, someone wasn\u2019t there closing in on her, stifling anything that didn\u2019t directly benefit him. What did it matter that she was standing there naked, well, naked with orange sneakers on.in front of a stranger? It was liberating, refreshing! Effervescent? It made her think of a commercial for something minty and fresh. Now if only she had some iced tea. Though naked, she was still quite hot.<\/span><\/p>\n

She looked at the stranger again; all of this, of course, only taking seconds, and felt a second surge of power.<\/span><\/p>\n

She knocked on his window.<\/span><\/p>\n

He rolled it down, partially.<\/span><\/p>\n

She briefly wondered if hers and this stranger\u2019s were the only cars among hundreds with manual windows, if this bound them somehow.<\/span><\/p>\n

Once he rolled the window to its bottommost position and his hand returned to his lap, she spoke, \u201cPardon me. Do you happen to have any Grey Poupon?\u201d <\/span><\/p>\n

Grey Poupon?<\/span><\/i> She was disappointed. She knocks on a stranger\u2019s window naked in the middle of the worst traffic jam she had ever seen and all she could think of was Grey Poupon and those commercials from her childhood. Her confidence deflated, a proofed dough roughly handled. <\/span>Grey Poupon.<\/span><\/i> She had never understood those commercials, why people were using mustard in their cars anyway. A mustard stain is nearly impossible to get out,  decidedly bad choice for vehicular snacking. Besides, if the stuff was that damn good, you\u2019d think these people would keep a box of it in the trunk or at least know a complete stranger wouldn\u2019t be eager to part with his beloved goldenrod condiment.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cGrey Poupon?\u201d The man asked.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cGrey Poupon,\u201d she confirmed. Suddenly she felt laughter explode from within. Or maybe she was just laughing because her hair tickled her back. She laughed loudly, wildly and with all of her soul the first time in years. Certainly it was the first time since she had started dating Gary.  Besides she had, as a child always wanted to give someone that line.  In fact, she had begged her parents to let her do it. By the time she got her own car she was too embarrassed by it, painted by the elements not by some besmocked guy in a garage. to stop anyone for anything. But now, years later, she and that car had successfully acted out a childhood fantasy.  She had done something she had always wanted to do, fulfilled her most longstanding dream. She felt good again, inspired. She could create a website about becoming your true self.  She noticed the silence between herself and the man with the manual windows. Hoping she wasn\u2019t too late, she offered, \u201cI always wanted to ask someone that.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

She watched for his reaction.  He almost looked scared. She had never seen a man look afraid of her.  Intimidated, sure, after all women tend to hold the upper hand when it comes to certain sexual aspects, especially if she has the demeanor of someone who has experienced stronger, taller, smarter or otherwise better men.  His apparent hint of fear made her feel good.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cIronic,\u201d she started, \u201cmen spend most of their scheming a way to get women naked and here you are\u2026a naked woman strides right up to your car window and you look frightened.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re naked. On the highway. That <\/span>is<\/span><\/i> frightening.\u201d He responded to her calmly and logically , punctuating his statement with an audible deep breath. He made her think he was a mathematician.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWhat\u2019s there to be afraid of?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cLots of things. There\u2019s plenty to be afraid of.\u201d At that moment, for example, he wondered if she had crabs and if she did whether one of them could jump from her crotch to his eyebrow or moustache.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYou know I\u2019m not hiding anything, nowhere to hide it.\u201d She pauses, thinking \u201cthese,\u201d spreading her endless, sculpted arms like a television menace basking in the brilliance of a nefarious plot, \u201cthese people are the scary ones.\u201d She turns around slowly, completes each and every one of three hundred sixty degrees, feeling like a superstar. \u201cThey could be hiding anything.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

She looked at him again. A searching look and found that he looked disinterested.  She bored him.  Here she was wearing only a pair of bright orange sneakers and a sticky, sweaty, film and she couldn\u2019t even hold his attention.  She was offended. <\/span>His car has manual windows and he\u2019s bored! He doesn\u2019t even deserve to be bored.<\/span><\/i><\/strong><\/p>\n

***<\/p>\n

Want to catch up on the story? Do it here<\/a>.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Megan noticed, as all women learn to at one point or another, that it was taking all of the effort that he had to keep his eyes aimed at hers. Upon reaching his car, she had realized her power, his vulnerability. And who said she wasn\u2019t spontaneous? Gary had said it. She wished her boyfriend… Continue reading Traffic #2<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"Traffic #2 http:\/\/wp.me\/p33KTw-1fc\r\nA novel I wrote a few years ago piece-by-piece.","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[742],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-4786","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-traffic","entry"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p33KTw-1fc","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack-related-posts":[{"id":4806,"url":"https:\/\/sherlonya.net\/blog\/2016\/06\/traffic-3\/","url_meta":{"origin":4786,"position":0},"title":"Traffic #3","author":"admin","date":"June 27, 2016","format":false,"excerpt":"\u201cShonda, look!\u201d James exclaimed. Shonda\u00a0was looking.\u00a0 Looking right out the window. She was looking as far as she could see. If she could have, she would have looked her way right out of that car, right out of her marriage, right out of her life. Not life itself, let there\u2026","rel":"","context":"In "Traffic"","block_context":{"text":"Traffic","link":"https:\/\/sherlonya.net\/blog\/category\/writing\/traffic\/"},"img":{"alt_text":"","src":"","width":0,"height":0},"classes":[]},{"id":4760,"url":"https:\/\/sherlonya.net\/blog\/2016\/05\/that-day-i-used-my-breasts-to-get-revenge-at-best-buy\/","url_meta":{"origin":4786,"position":1},"title":"That Day I Used My Breasts to Get Revenge at Best Buy","author":"admin","date":"May 19, 2016","format":false,"excerpt":"This story begins with a broken camera lens. I bought this lens as a part of a camera kit. So, when I took the lens to get repaired, they required me to send the entire camera off. So I did. Several days later,\u00a0I got the camera back, and the repair\u2026","rel":"","context":"In \"last laugh\"","block_context":{"text":"last laugh","link":"https:\/\/sherlonya.net\/blog\/tag\/last-laugh\/"},"img":{"alt_text":"","src":"","width":0,"height":0},"classes":[]},{"id":5188,"url":"https:\/\/sherlonya.net\/blog\/2017\/11\/in-an-open-letter-to-the-woman-eating-a-naked-banana-in-two-inch-chunks-as-she-waited-for-her-coffee\/","url_meta":{"origin":4786,"position":2},"title":"In an open letter to the woman eating a naked banana in two-inch chunks as she waited for her coffee,","author":"sherlonya","date":"November 4, 2017","format":false,"excerpt":"\u201cI could not look away. I am ashamed of this fact.\u201d","rel":"","context":"In \"open letters\"","block_context":{"text":"open letters","link":"https:\/\/sherlonya.net\/blog\/tag\/open-letters\/"},"img":{"alt_text":"","src":"","width":0,"height":0},"classes":[]},{"id":4778,"url":"https:\/\/sherlonya.net\/blog\/2016\/06\/traffic-1\/","url_meta":{"origin":4786,"position":3},"title":"Traffic #1","author":"admin","date":"June 23, 2016","format":false,"excerpt":"Megan sat in her unreliable Plymouth Reliant in 85 degree, remind-you-of-a-moist-mouth, Michigan summer heat. Why is the universe mad at me this time? \u00a0She looked around, realizing that she was being dramatic again; to be stuck in traffic is to be stuck with the equally unlucky. \u00a0Revision: only someone who\u2026","rel":"","context":"In "Traffic"","block_context":{"text":"Traffic","link":"https:\/\/sherlonya.net\/blog\/category\/writing\/traffic\/"},"img":{"alt_text":"serialnovel","src":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/sherlonya.net\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2016\/06\/serialnovel.gif?resize=350%2C200&ssl=1","width":350,"height":200},"classes":[]},{"id":4818,"url":"https:\/\/sherlonya.net\/blog\/2017\/01\/traffic-4\/","url_meta":{"origin":4786,"position":4},"title":"Traffic #4","author":"admin","date":"January 5, 2017","format":false,"excerpt":"Megan. She gets worked up over everything. It\u2019s not like I called her a high school English\u00a0teacher. Uptight. That\u2019s what she is. Thank God I didn\u2019t call her that. And now I have to go buy her something. When we met she was\u00a0different, but she changed. They always go and\u2026","rel":"","context":"In "Traffic"","block_context":{"text":"Traffic","link":"https:\/\/sherlonya.net\/blog\/category\/writing\/traffic\/"},"img":{"alt_text":"","src":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/sherlonya.net\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2016\/06\/serialnovel.gif?resize=350%2C200&ssl=1","width":350,"height":200},"classes":[]},{"id":4574,"url":"https:\/\/sherlonya.net\/blog\/2015\/09\/in-an-open-letter-to-the-lady-who-told-me-she-liked-my-dress\/","url_meta":{"origin":4786,"position":5},"title":"In an open letter to the lady who told me she liked my dress,","author":"sherlonya","date":"September 17, 2015","format":false,"excerpt":"\u201cThank you for the compliment. It really made me smile. But what made me laugh was when your husband chimed in and said, \u2018If I\u2019d said the same thing to you, she\u2019d beat me up!\u2019 The two of you seem\u00a0like you know how to have a good time. Good on\u2026","rel":"","context":"In \"open letters\"","block_context":{"text":"open letters","link":"https:\/\/sherlonya.net\/blog\/tag\/open-letters\/"},"img":{"alt_text":"","src":"","width":0,"height":0},"classes":[]}],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/sherlonya.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4786","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/sherlonya.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/sherlonya.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sherlonya.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sherlonya.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=4786"}],"version-history":[{"count":5,"href":"https:\/\/sherlonya.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4786\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":4803,"href":"https:\/\/sherlonya.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4786\/revisions\/4803"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/sherlonya.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=4786"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sherlonya.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=4786"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sherlonya.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=4786"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}