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Gloss Be Poppin'

I saw this today on my way to work. I had to stop and fill my tank. I looked down and saw the tube of lip gloss at the base of the pump.

It was late. I imagined at first that she had just got off work. But that seemed too easy. She had been home. Had been ready for bed. A call...or rather a text from her booty call...her lover had stirred her from the red wine and salad induced stupor.

She changed out of her comfy pants in to the jeans that were almost too tight. Not that her lover would notice. There is no fashion statement when clothes are thrown in a hurried heap at the foot of the bed.

Snow had not quite covered the wind shield. As she put the key in to the ignition, the dashboard sprang to life in a cacophony of nearly useless lights and indicators. Save one--the low fuel warning. She had seen it leaving work today but had settled on the fact that she would fill it on the way to work tomorrow.

As welcome as the midnight rendezvous is, it's equally as annoying to think of running out of gas on the way to such delicious pleasure.

She pulled in to the gas station quickly and pulled up to the pump. She had opened the panel to the gas cap before remembering that she needed her Giant Eagle card. Reaching to the front passenger seat she grabbed her clutch. It was stuffed in a manner similar to the not quite too small jeans.

Being dark, it probably happened when she pulled out her billfold. The Mentha Lip Shine gloss fell to the pavement. Silent and unnoticed in the dark.

Casually dismissed as having been left at home when she pulled in to her lover's drive, she opened the glove box for the spare tube.  After all, it's quite important that the gloss be poppin'.



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