The Adriana Chronicles: A crashing halt

One thing girls will do to prove to the world that they’re badass chicks with cool-cat attitudes — but deny that they’re attention mongering while doing so — is to don designer sunglasses, roll down the windows, and bump that hyphy. That’s exactly what Adriana and her BFF Penny were doing when driving up from San Jose one Sunday afternoon, coursing their way through traffic on 680N to get back to Walnut Creek.

Sure enough somewhere between Pleasanton and Dublin, they heard the honk of a car horn. Trying to act surprised, they took brief respite from navigating the road to glance over at the source of the sound.

From the car adjacent, a greasy looking mid-30 with donning greased back hair tapped his golden stunnas and flashed his most Fonz-worthy smile at them. Then Mr. Cheese beckoned them to pull over.

Adriana and Penny glanced at each other. Then in practiced high-maintenance manner, they patted their hair, rolled their eyes, threw up dismissive, pink maniscured hands and uttered their best “As if!” scoffs. As they very conspicuously waved off Mr. Cheese, Adriana looked back at the road, only to  instantaneously seize up. Up ahead loomed the wall of a sudden traffic jam, most likely caused by rubberneckers slowing down unnecessarily to check out the latest car accident.

Luckily for Adriana’s Acura, instincts kicked in, and Adriana slammed the brakes before the car could make some unwanted acquaintances with its fellows on the road.

Not so for Mr. Cheese. There he went, sailing into the sea of cars, distracted by the two prima donnas on the road.

For some reason or other — perhaps guilt — Adriana reports that she and Penny pulled over to make sure Mr. Cheese was okay. Other than being visibly shaken by the grisly demise of his vehicle, Mr. Cheese was quite unharmed. And apparently undeterred.

“Soooo, ladieees,” he crooned, brushing his disheveled coiffeur back. “Do you think I could get your numbers so you can be my accident witnesses?”

“Hell no,” the two girls said, then stomped back to their car. They drove away without a second thought.

I must say, it’s quite an amazing feat to be able to attract men from the inside of a tinted-glass ride, and I humbly bow to the power of Dior shades. On that note, perhaps it made sense the girls showed some concern for the man’s welfare. After all, he did get into a car accident for them, all for the sake of boosting diva ego.


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