i am, i am, i am

“Believe me, ma’am, you haven’t. But let me give you the long story short– We had to part ways. It sucks.” Raises an eyebrow. “Ma’am, I wanna apologize to you, and to your mother, but ain’t that a big load of bullshit.” Lets out a laugh. “This ain’t the 50s. A marriage is a partnership. Y’all have got to support each other, equally.” Makes a face. “Sorry, it ain’t my place to be sayin’ those things.”

“Mutual divorce? I swear to lord those are the worst types by far. When it gets to a point where you know it’s just not gonna work anymore and you have to amicably accept it. Painful.” Forces a laugh out, shaking her head. “I’m right there with you on that, but I dunno-- some people have different ideas I suppose.” Waves her hand. “Please don’t be sorry, I’m the one basically dumping my marital problems on your lap.”

“Gee, princess, I’m sure it wouldn’t be the end of the world”

“I beg to differ, little one. It would absolutely be the end of the world if my feet lose their baby softness.”

“You still look beautiful if that’s any consolation?”

“Aren’t you charming? What’s your name, dimples?”

“Uh– Long story. Can’t let ya husband force ya to do things, ma’am. That ain’t love.”

“I’ve got time.” She smiled her beautiful Blake Lively smile, before continuing. “It’s funny you should say that because most people I know would disagree. My mom fully believes that a woman’s job is to strictly fulfill her wifely duties, meaning doing anything their husband wants.”

“I did, once. Well you’ll have to excuse me then, ma’am, but I don’t get it. How did marriage end your dream?”

“Divorce? You really don’t want to get me started on that because once I begin I won’t end. But let’s just say it all started when he forced me to move here.”

“Not all marriages. You have kids, ma’am?”

“Do you have a good one? And nope, no little kiddies for us yet. Maybe one day.”

“Stop me anytime if I start crossing lines, ma’am, but–  Why? What happened?”

“Marriage. It sucks the life straight out of you!”

Joan nodded while quietly looking the girl over, “Are you actually from here?” Joan searched her middle console pulling out an old bag of potato chips and a pack of cigarettes in the process. 

“Of course! I mean, I wasn’t born here, but I’ve been here for the past three years.” she smiled, before continuing. “What about yourself, honey?”

“Well, ma’am, I’d say that’s definitely one way to put it. –Why? You havin’ trouble keeping up with yours?”

“This is going to sound beyond depressing, so prepare yourself accordingly-- my dreams died before they even began.”

“…gross.” Joan walked over to her truck and climbed into the drivers side, leaning over the passengers to unlock the door. “Where to blondie?” 

Climbing into the vehicle, Eleanor looked around-- the girl obviously wasn’t lying about how messy it was. “The nearest service stop, please. I tried calling for a tow truck, but apparently they closed hours ago and don’t believe in saving a helpless damsel.”

“The later sound like so much more fun to witness. But I guess I could take you up… for a small fee tho, gas isn’t free ya kno”

“Fun to witness? It would be completely tragic! Not even ten pedicures could help what this awful road would do to my poor toesies.”

“Well, ma’am, these kids– they’ve got thick skin. And they won’t give up so easily of their dream.”

“That’s kind of inspirational, don’t you think? Maybe they can give me some tips on how to keep a hold of your dreams.”

“uhhh…” Joan glanced around nervously not sure if the blonde was actually talking to her. “Sure…if you don’t mind the fact that my truck smells like old fast food and pringles.” 

“No problem whatsoever, honey. As long as I can get out of this hot sun before I turn into an over ripe tomato.”

“Uh- not at all, has to be good karma points for helping out a damsel in distress.”

“Bless your adorable heart! I feel like I’ve been stuck out here for hours and my make up damn near melted off my face. So, you’ll have to excuse me for how awful I look.”

“But ma’am, how will they get better if I go easy on them?”

“Let me just say-- if I were being punched in the face on a daily basis, I’d completely give up any dreams I had of being a boxer. Nope. No thank you.”

“I’m faster than them”

“Poor little babies. Don’t you believe in going easy on them?”

“Around my size? Some taller, some shorter. But I can assure you, ma’am, they’re all just as built.”

“If that’s so, then how come you aren’t covered in your own blood?”