Part 2: what do you calla redneck with an actual house AND a running car that has no primer on it...

A redneck, that's what. Now, back to the tale at hand...
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So there I was... driving down Midlothian Turnpike with a drunk redneck chick in the passenger seat. Now, normally I wouldn't use the word 'chick' to describe a woman, but in this case, I have to make the exception - it was simply fitting... and also much kinder than many other words I later learned were likely more appropriate...

She began talking... a lot... mostly simple yet disjointed sentences... well, really fragments of sentences, as she went through what seemed her entire CD collection, putting in one cd after another, playing 10-20 seconds of any given song at a time, all the while asking me, "Do you like this one?" I would merely respond with a "whatever you want to hear is fine..." or "that's cool" or "sure"... this eventually degraded as I got onto Chippenham, southbound, to more of a pleading response... I tacked on a "please, just pick something... ANYTHING." to each "that's cool" or "sure" response.

She then went on to tell me just how good looking I was... I believe her statement was actually a "fine-looking piece of man"... or something of the sort. Now, in order to avoid further discussion or argument, I didn't laugh out loud at that - I merely accepted this remark as something driven by the multiple factors on hand - 1. hubbie dumped her 2. she was drunk, 3. I have long hair... that right there is almost an aphrodisiac to some redneck women... and I have a lot of hair, so... I, the newly appointed beefcake, simply drove on... and noted that the car was almost out of gas...

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Of course, it took me a while and several attempts at giving her this important little fuel related tidbit for her to catch on to the simple fact that I was actually talking to her... and that the fact that we were in a not-so-gas-efficient vehicle that was running on fumes was important. Finally, however, I got her to take notice. She suggested a gas station down on Hopkins road, just a little ways away... and I found the first one and started to turn in... and she almost freaked out.

Apparently, this particular station was in a neighborhood with a lot of (shhh) ... black people. Oh.. Okay fine.

So I went on down the road, gas fumes quickly depleting all the while...
one mile...
two miles...
three... and finally, thankfully, we managed to get to the next gas station down the road to fill up.

And now Drunk Girl was unsure of where to go between her parents and her home... where her children, I might add, were. S*****, who had been kind enough to drag me into this unfortunate situation, discussed with her and they seemed to arrive at the decision that we would take her to herparents house and later she could go home and get the kids in the am. Probably safer for her not to see/speak with/physically assault her husband in her current condition was the mode of thought we were following.

And so we headed on down the road... We finally got within to the neighborhood of the area of her neighborhood and Drunkie started pondering, fumbling with a mysterious dilemna. On questioning her, I discovered that her her parents apparently live in the same subdivision as her theoretically-soon-to-be-ex-hubby and she was struggling to reach a decision as to which house to go to. Finally, her decision made (and noticed I did not mention to which house she had chosen) she told me to turn right... too late, of course, having already passed the street. So I had to turn around... and here it was, well after 2am and I was turning into a complete strangers driveway to turn around in a red mustang with a drunk redneck girl gibbering away in the passenger seat.

"Wow. Could it get any more fun than this?" I thought to myself.

Having turned about and taken the turn described, we took another turn and then into a driveway. The lights were on and there was an SUV parked there.

"Hmm, " I wondered to myself, "are her parents home?"

Oh, hell no... not her parents I soon learned... "Damn. I guess my husband DID come home," she quipped.

S*****, who had basically been tailgating us all the way to this point got out of her car and questioned out loud, "When did Kevin (Drunkie's father) buy a new house?" She also obviously thought we were at Drunkie's parents' house. Well, S***** had to use the facilities so she followed Drunk Girl right in... and so did I... wow, I made a multitude of mistakes that night, didn't I?

More to come in the next chapter...
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