The Commute
I worked for Boeing when I first met Fred
Liked him the instant he called me “brain dead”
We were both part of the same office mob
Both engineers fairly new on the job
I was single then, but didn’t last long
Got married and then my Corvette was gone
Being married soon my budget was tight
When Fred said, “Let’s car pool”; I said, “Alright”
Fred drove first on our initial commute
The car he was in, was tiny and cute
“It’s a Vespa”, he said, “easy on gas”
I’m thinking, “In a wreck, I’ll lose my ass!”
The engine inside was like a lawnmower
A small two stoker, but still was a goer
It wasn’t long before carpooling died
Fred could drive so cheap, all I did was ride
What Fred charged was ridiculously small
And on every commute we had a ball
Other commuters would stare at the car
Till finally I said, “This has gone too far”
If someone stared, we’d talk about their car
Really loud, so they’d hear something bazaar
It was always a put down of some kind
We got really good at it over time
Every trip to work and back, we had fun
Except an earthquake hit while on one run
Seeing telephone poles sway to and fro
Just wasn’t my bag, I want you to know
From his house to mine, wasn’t very far
I played the uke and Fred played guitar
We’d get together; play and sing a song
Our friendship today is still very strong
Just as we are close friends, so are our wives
We’ll be that way for the rest of our lives
Space between triglyphs in a Doric frieze?
If you see Fred, ask for an answer please!
(I’d sooner Lipton!)
Copyright © Charles Sides | Year Posted 2011
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