Asphalt Envy

Some people envy the wealth and good fortune of others, their champagne lifestyles and caviar dreams.  Hubby and I are above all that.  We're simple folk, really.  We envy streets that are as smooth as a baby's tushy.  We long for asphalt that doesn't threaten to swallow us whole.  We dream of a street free of potholes and bumpy terrain, a street that doesn't require off-road vehicles and graduation from the Bob Bondurant School of Defensive Driving.  It takes courage and navigational fortitude, not to mention a nice helping of mazel, just to make it down our street without throwing our cars out of alignment. 

We want what we can't have, but that doesn't stop hubby from trying.  He is our pothole vigilante.  He goes out and covers the holes himself.  He's that kind of activist.  And when he gets fed up, which is often, he calls and badgers Street Maintenance yet again.  "Yeah, your street's in failed condition," they tell him.  No sh*t!  "Your street's been in the repair queue for 30 years." Thirty years.  Is that all?  Our street is so eff'd up, it needs a total rebuild.  Unless we'd like to pay for it ourselves, we'll have to wait another 30 years, and by then, we'll be to old to care. 

This week in particular has been hard for us.  Our asphalt envy runneth over.  My good friend Trixie's dainty little street just two blocks away is getting the royal street repair treatment.  A total rebuild.  A major makeover.  No fair.  Yesterday, I opened my investigation by hurling accusations.  "So, Trixie, who'd you have to sleep with to make this happen?"  "Make what happen?" she asked.  "To get your street repaired."  "How dare you suggest such a thing!" "Don't play innocent with me, missy. You either slept with the mayor or greased the palm of a street maintenance mucky-muck.  Which is it?"  "I'm sorry.  You've reached the wrong number."  "Oh, I've got your number, baby."  "Back off, bitch!"  "Spill it, Trixie, or I go public with this." She couldn't take the pressure and caved.  "When it comes to my street, I'm a slut.  I'll do whatever it takes."  "Does Morty know?"  "Who do you think suggested it?"