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The sky is cloudy and the air is heavy and hot, the humidity clinging to us as we go out to your van. Not my car, a sedan with clear windows. But your van, with tinted windows and a large back seat. We drive away from the parking lot, looking for somewhere darker and more isolated. Somewhere to park away from prying eyes. We both know why we are doing this, but we are still unsure of just how far we will go tonight. We’ve never met before. Strangers in the night. Perhaps that was what Sinatra was singing about. We end up behind an industrial building, a factory that looks closed, out of business for some time. The weeds grow uncontrolled through the cracks in the pavement in the parking lot behind the building. No lights. Just darkness and solitude. The air is heavy and your van does not have air-conditioning. We park and move to the back seat, locking the doors and opening the windows just a crack. Manual not electric windows. Even with the power off on your van, we can still open. Your crying is making it harder for us to hear each other, so please stop."[I've often wondered how females' screaming and crying could possibly have evolved. A saber-tooth tiger runs into the cave where Mr. and Mrs. Ug are living, and Mrs. Ug starts carrying on the way women do. If I was the saber-tooth, the VERY first thing I would do would be to put a stop to that horrible noise. Mrs. Ug wouldn't survive being quieted by a saber-tooth, which would piss off her genes. In other words, Donna's crying had no beneficial effect at all. All it did was waste time, annoy people, and let us know that she was feeling sorry for herself; none of which enhance problem solving or survival of her genes. On the other hand, if I was Miss Ug, and facing the prospect of being sent to live in Seattle with her grandparents, I think I'd cry too and hopefully the saber-tooth would eat me.]No one else could think of any other choices. If Donna could, which I doubted, she certainly couldn't articulate.
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