I was on my way to work when I saw something that entered my orbital nerves, kicked its way around my brain, and then settled, never to be released.
I saw a license plate holder that said this:
“Sex is like credit”
“Not everyone gets some.”
Using logic, I deduced that the woman driver saw this license plate holder and liked it so much that she purchased it with money earned through a profession. Then, having brought it home, she took it from her shopping bag and still enjoyed the “wit” of the holder; there was no regret.
“Sex is like credit. Not everyone gets some.” Like credit, you see. Credit.
It’s not even a joke. It’s just, like, a fact. Or not even a fact. It’s just a statement. A phrase. A sentence that dribbled out from someone’s pen and was stamped into tin.
Ahem, moving on.
The woman removed said holder from its packaging, chortled, and then proceeded to take it outside to her vehicle. Then, she knowingly and deliberately took a screwdriver and unscrewed the four screws holding on her current license plate holder. (I can only assume it said, “I brake for cars.”) She then took the new holder, held it up, and screwed into on her car. She did all this of her own volition.
She had but one message to send to the world. And this was it:
“Sex is like credit. Not everyone gets some.”
You can understand now why I’m forever changed.