Just as we were noticing our amazing luck at being on the road for a couple months through several states without even any car trouble, this strange looking thing came out of left field.
We had finally made it to the great state of Rhode Island (FINALLY!!) when we heard loud metal clanging at the back of the car. After a few miles of pretending like neither of us heard it, we finally pulled over to inspect.
What we found hanging from the bottom of the car is pictured above. In spite of the wide range of car knowledge we both accumulated while being chauffeured everywhere by Maggie’s dad from the ages of 14 to 25, we didn’t have a clue what this could be!
We stood there blank faced, waiting for our "ask the audience life line" like Dev Patel in Slumdog Millionaire. (I guess that could have just been a Who Wants To Be A Millionaire reference, but I’m a really big Dev Patel fan).
Go figure, our lifeline never came, and we were left to our own devices to figure it out. But, as you know, two heads are better than one, which is clear from this list of things we legitimately thought it could be:
- the engine
something that is definitely a part of the car, but it's really not that important so sometimes it just falls off like an umbilical chord
like, the “essence” of the “car”
nothing? possibly? I don’t know.
the smoke monster? I’m starting to give up
the other half of the plane
Does anyone actually know what this is??
What are two girls to do when they're in the car for 8 hours and they've listened to all of Rob Thomas' "new stuff?"
Should they talk to each other? Keep their eyes on the road? Listen to Rob Thomas' "not-so-new stuff?" Hell no. It's time to stop bickering at each other and turn on the other drivers of the road. We present to you, with pride, our 1-90 burn book!
Red and white car, little Ms. Candy Cane? More like Red, White and Bitch. Get a real job.
Ooooo, cool apple sticker. What's your operating system, iSuck? Cuz you do. You suck. Go cry to the cloud about it. Get a real job, Steve Jobs.
Where you going'? Get some real sleeves.
Single white female. You look like my freshman year biology teacher Ms. Kendall. Are you my freshman year biology teacher Ms. Kendall? If not, take off those shades. You are no Ms. Kendall!
Who you texting, your parole officer, you fucking criminal? You're breaking the law! You're putting us, Ms. Kendall and Rob Thomas in danger!
Oooo, what do we have here? Look at you, Ms. Thing. Driving with both hands on the wheel. Ten and two, am I right? Shawty, you a TEN and we're the TWO single white females to your left. Va va voom.
... Not really a burn.
This guy hasn't seen any road head since that mustache was in style. Burn, baby, burn.
This guy's probably seen a little too much road head since that mustache was in style.
Hey Rob Thomas! Your not-so-new stuff isn't as good as your new stuff! BURN!
We decided to ignore it until it went away, which always works.