Hooptie Dooptie had a great fall

This past week Sean was in Texas and then Tennessee, so we meet for lunch on Thursday at Chili’s to reconnect. At the end of our mid-day tryst we walk out to the car and I say, “Hey, by the way, did you know your car stereo isn’t
working?”

Sean says, “Yeah, remember when the boys left the door open the other day, well, the battery ran out and I had to jump it. The stereo is disabled every time jump the car – some sort of anti-theft thing. I’ll get the code to fix it when I go buy the new hubcap.

“Hubcap?” I ask. “What? Do we really need to replace the hubcap, I mean look at it!”

“Look at what?” he says innocently, as if he truly had no idea what I was talking about.

We stood in silence studying the gold 2000 Mitsubishi Galant with 110,000 miles to boast. The paint is peeling off the front bumper and hood like an acute case of automobile leprosy. My eyes scan to the back where there's a dent the size of Hillary Clinton’s head in the trunk.




“You’re really going to buy another hubcap?” I ask.

“Well, yeah, I don’t want to be driving a hooptie around.” He says.

Silence.

“Sean,” I said ducking into the car. Come closer.

He leans in.

I pull his head toward me and whisper in his ear, “I’m really sorry I have drop this on you. But, it already IS a hooptie.”

He pulls away like I just sucker punched him.

“It IS not!” he insists.

“Sean, just throw a pair of curb feelers on her and you’re driving the hooptie of the year.”

“No way. NO. I can’t believe you’re even saying that!” he says shaking his head while eyeing her longingly like the daughter we’ll never have.

“I know it must be hard for you to say it out loud. But…”

He still looks hurt.

“It’s not!” he shouts as I roll up my window. I mime through the window, can’t hear you, sorry! I kiss the window, then flash him the “I love you” sign and drive off.

Do you buy the hubcap and keep it a half-hooptie, or do you wait until a door falls off and get hydraulics and neon lights installed?