Ass Bumping at 85

As I was leaving London, Kentucky this afternoon I entered the usual mess of traffic headed north-bound on I-75 . There was a bit of rain and haze in the humid afternoon as I merged onto the rough pavement, and I began searching for my dancing partner for the next 20 miles to the Mount Vernon exit. I have found over the past twenty some years that the trip goes faster if you can find a compatible dance partner to trail along in their slipstream or let them draft your wind to expedite the journey. It's a high stakes game as you slip away from the 65 mile per hour limit and dare to enter the realm of the fast. Sometimes you just feel better locked into a partnership as both vehicles weave in and out of the three lanes just short of three digits of mph. It usually lets one get away from the Boys in Grey (or Brown also now). I figure a 50% chance of a speeding fine is far better than 100%. As I merged I immediately got up to speed and started looking for dancing partners. A big old(but New) Lesabre with an elderly white haired lady seemed to be cruising at around 80. Her husband was riding shotgun with his head on the headrest, facing towards the ceiling, either dead or fast asleep; probably not a lot of differance considering his age. As I pulled beside her at 80 I glanced over and sent out my best vibes ,"Wanna Dance Granny?"Judging that her straight forward locked- in stare and the clenched claws on the Lesabres wheel in the proper 9 and 2 position told me this old chick was ready to rock and roll. I gracefully slid behind the old girl as we shot down 75 at 80. We went by the old Weigh Station and I realized that Granny's dance was the Waltz. Now sometimes I don't mind a waltz or minuet for a change, but at our speed we had travelled a mile in about 45 seconds, and this was not the day for ball room etiquette. Sandy Kay was expecting me home at a decent hour, and I didn't feel good with this sinus infection. As I slipped around Granny and her dead mate I mentally thanked her for our 45 second relationship and sought out a new partner, maybe somebody that wanted to bump and grind. As the Lesabre receded in my rear view mirror I watched the red ,white , and blue Ohio plates get lost in the haze of the Silverado's backwash . I though that maybe when you're headed back to Florida we'll redance the waltz Granny. From the looks of things Grandad won't be along and maybe you'll be in a mood to get down and rock. I 'm cruising at sublight and pull beside an older red Chevy pickup with darkened windows . "Can I have this Dance?"I can't see the driver through his illegal tinted windows, but I sense interest at 88 , and we start the bump and grind toward Mount Vernon. Even granny shows a sign of interest in my mirror as she gets up to 85." Get back Granny, you lost your chance and this isn't a three way square dance!" I slipped in front of my new partner and hit the 90's as easily as you please. Thanks to Sandy Kay and Tony Andrews I had a new secret weapon-a brand new matched pair of white lettered 235 R 16s to give me confidence and carry me home.Like Jeff Gordon I feel that my vehicle runs better in clean air and we proved this as we bumped and ground our way through the 55mph when wet area just before the bridge at a little under the century mark. Boy those 20 miles really go rapidly when you have a good dance partner, and all too soon you have to blink the signal that your dance is over and say goodbye. As I glanced in my mirror I was somewhat more at ease that Granny and the corpse had hooked up with a Chrysler mini van. It looked like a fox trot to me. My biggest problem is to stop practicing my dance moves on old crooked US 150. Entering Brodhead at 70 probably woud get the attention of their Barney Fife and his cruiser. He does have one bullet.