The post in which I fake it and use an old photo

Last night I drove to DFW, a.k.a the airport that a drunk person laid out, and picked up my high-school friend Missy. She will be in Waxahachie for a whole week to plan her July wedding, but she took time off from ripping the heads off live chipmunks (or whatever it is those bridezillas do) to have dinner with ME. So we had Indian food where the naan tasted like pancakes and chatted, and then I drove her down to her parents' house and she turned my hazard light on a bunch of times (see below).

Here is a list of things that I associate with Missy:

• Hazard lights. In high school I drove a Mazda Protogé (S.E.X.Y.), which featured the hazard lights button as interior DECOR. It was big and red and right in the middle of the dash. So Missy would press it, ideally when I wasn't looking. Then I would get mad. GOOD TIMES!
• CiCi's Pizza. We'd go before football games and eat our body weight for $3.99. I don't think I've been to a CiCi's since. It's probably for the best.
• Reckless driving. Missy would, without fail, forget essential drill-teamal items before every single game. So we would hop in the Protogé (so, so sexy still) and drive 85 mph to her house to pick up the top half of her uniform. Or the prop for that week's routine. I am proud to announce that we never missed the bus as the result of me endangering the lives of Waxahachie's drivers and pedestrians. (What am I thinking, there are no pedestrians in Waxahachie.)
• 7-Layer Burritos Sadly, these I've had since high school.

Now, to the treadmill. I can't take its mocking laughter any more.