Muggy, nasty day...but an early end to the work week, so, overall, good.
Long, hot drive back from Lincoln City this afternoon, with Highway 18 motionless and jammed with desperate long-weekenders fleeing to the coast. I've been commuting this road for the past 90 days or more and the drive has become so freaking boring that I have taken to blasting the radio, playing silly car games...anything to pass the time.
So today I looked at the line of traffic going the other way. And noticed something, well, odd.
About every twentieth car (or van, whatever) had a pair of bare feet propped up against the windshield, or on the dashboard. And, almost invariably, (once I passed the first three I started counting, which says something for how truly bored I was) the person lounging behind these feet was female. I think out of the probably seventy-three bare feet (counting singles, of course) I thing probably three guys got into the act, even including the one person that I frankly wasn't sure about.
So...is this bare-feet-on-the-window a woman-thing? Is there something in the female spirit that says: long drive, hot day, let's shuck the flops and air those girls out? I know I don't do it...are us guys just too inhibited to prop our dogs on the dash, or what? Is it that most guys insist on driving, leaving the shotgun seat to the smarter sex? Is it a question of space between the shotgun seat and the dashboard? Or an issue of flexibility? What? I have no clue. Another of life's mysteries, like liquid soap and the appendix.
Anyway...time to head home. Hope you all have a thunderous 7/4!