smack dab dab smack

The following is a direct transcript from an email I sent to the other two teams employed by my company and my bosses. No response yet. And below the first one is a second, follow-up email my tour partner sent to soften the blow of the first a bit. Still, no response.


Smack dab

Library? Community center? Airplane hangar? Prison? We're in Texas. Lights on
the side of the highway means staring. Anything on the side of the highway means
staring. It's dark, flat and there aint nothin' else to look at. I've taken to
voyeuring truckers. One of them gave us a hearty honk.

We're doing a lot of driving. Texas smells like gas and it's kind of sinfully
nice at first...then your eyes start to burn through your smile and you can feel
nerves somewhere deep in your safe brain dying, you turn to your partner with
crazy eyes and insist she turn right out of the dairy queen you stopped at.
"But...the...interstate's on the left", she says, worried at the overexposed
whites of your eyes.
"Turn right, dammit, right!" you scream, becoming frantic. "I wonna show you the
trailer I bought you...us. The trailer I bought for us. That nice man at the DQ
said 'hurry on back...' and I just figured 'why leave?"

Your partner takes the left and is silent for the next fifteen miles or
so...sullen even. Sullen. When she speaks again, it is only to comment on how
the smell kind of went away. And nervously.

Her discomfort is a cold, uncomfortable stare in the flip-down mirror. You let
Texas take over. You promise you'll never let it happen again and the tears run
down her face. Tears of relief. You turn the AC to recycle. Crazy must be in the
air here.


Team McDeed
"crafty enough to smuggle a penis"



And the follow-up:

Please disregard the previous message

We meant dab smack.

Team McDeed
"It's gonna leave a mark."

Due to the lack of crafty or even frightened responses, I hearby declare martial law. Martial Law. Does anyone like martial law? No? Well, then maybe you should consider how it feels to have your innermost feelings not reponded to. Maybe it feels like martial law smack dab dab smack in the middle of my roadburned heart.