White Bread

My sister told me an exceptionally funny story recently and I just HAVE to share.

On the surface, the story is about a man and his car. But the underbelly of the story reveals that we are aging, friends. We're not 21 anymore. (If you're 21 and reading this, get off my blog, you sicko.)

My sister, Noel, has been married to a wonderful man for nearly 10 years. His name is Shane. Now Shane is extremely intelligent (graduated from college in THREE years) and very savvy when it comes to financial investments. He has decided to drive an older car for these past years while he grows his business. It's a Honda Accord and, if memory serves, it is about 100 years old. Give or take a decade. Point is: It's old.

Shane lives in Charlotte and wanted to have his car windows tinted because, poor thing, it's SUNNY down there. Grrr. He found a place to do his windows for a great price. This venue is a place, as my sister described, "you would go to in the day but NOT the nighttime." Gotcha. So my brother-in-law leaves his car under the care of these individuals and comes home.

My sister, out of curiousity, inquires what kind of window tinting he decided on. Shane describes it: "Oh, it's gonna be great, honey. The guy said he's going to make it bad a**." A red flag alerts my wary sister: "Bad A**? You're not bad a**! You're a conservative white boy. Call him back and tell him to make it 'conservative white boy'. You're not bad a**." He declines her suggestion.

Several days later Shane goes to pick up his car with my sister. My sister didn't HAVE to come, but she insisted.

The black Honda Accord was now decked out with COPPER tinted windows. Copper. My financial-planning, white bread brother in law is now ghetto.

I have got to see this. I told my sister I want to come down under the guise of seeing her new son, Chet. But truth be told, I have to see this car. This chick needs a good long laugh.