Driving to school, the Dude stopped the CD in the middle of Born to Run, backed it up, started it again, listening intently.
“There – that – what does he mean?”
‘Wrap your legs ‘round these velvet rims,
And strap your hands ‘cross my engines.’?”
Never one to lie – but then again, never one to just blurt out the truth when it’s not absolutely necessary – I said,
“Hmm, it might have something to do with sex.”
“Then again, it might be about motorcycles. Like maybe she is straddling a motorcycle – hanging onto the engines.” I’m obviously making this up as I go – but it’s not so bad.
The Dude stares at me, “Yeah, maybe that’s it.”