Chapter 8
We’re cruising along. The kitten is now on my head, yes, that’s right, on my head, sound asleep, her tail twitching in my eye. Jimmy is sitting on my lap with his paws on the window ledge and his head, which seems to be mostly tongue and flying ears, out the window. We’re going about 85 and it’s smooth as a bird. I wish I’d swiped some of the rum. How cool is this, riding along with my drunk driver? I’m not as calm as I sound. And I’m hungry. And horny. Which is not easy with a huge, overweight dog on your lap. It makes me laugh.
I compare this with the scenario right before I left home. My parents are getting in the car. I’m already in the back seat, really upset, trying not to pout, trying not to say anything or act like a little kid, but that’s how I feel, like I’m four-six-
