judged not by the color of his skin, but the contents of his Honda Civic


I sometimes find myself thinking of the following situation. If I were in a car accident or my car was found abandoned in the middle of nowhere and people had to try and figure out something about me based on the contents of my car, what would they think? I'm not in the habit of storing things that are really all that strange in my car, but I am a bit, well, let's say different, shall we? Plus, I'm loath to clean up any space, let alone one that I spend about 40 minutes in a day. I think right now would be one of the most bizarre times to have a stranger try and conjure up an image of me based on my automobile.

The following is a list of items in my car. Let me know what, as if you didn't know me, what you'd make of it:

  • a number of cardigans strewn about the floor
  • several bottles of baby food
  • an entire trunk-full of fabric swatches (seriously, it took me four trips to the car to fill it up, that's how many there were)
  • an assortment of cds, to wit: Fifth Gear by Braid Paisley, Hedwig and the Angry Inch, Chutes too Narrow by The Shins, Beloved Hymns of the Restoration by some guitar soloist, Taking the Long Way by The Dixie Chicks, Avenue Q and a compilation cd of various Death Cab for Cutie songs
  • a beach towel, which was obviously recently used
  • four packs of gum, all open with only one or two pieces missing
  • a set of empty picture frames from Ikea
  • three empty water bottles
  • a sandwich baggy full of granola
I think what we learn here is that it's time to clean out my car


Petra said...

That, and time to use periods.

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