BOOM BOOM

I drive a cute convertible. In addition to cuteness, it's sensible, with a 4 cylinder engine, decent gas mileage, front wheel drive and an automatic top. That's why I bought it.

It's also equipped with a Rockford Fosgate sound system which is not why I bought it but that, according to my salesperson, is primo. Clearly visible in the back seat from outside the car is a dinner-plate size speaker that many people, especially young men, seem to appreciate.

Recently I've been freelancing at an office that is very close - unfortunately close, actually - to a McDonalds. I can live without McDonalds food, but I crave their caramel iced coffee. The temptation is always there and easily accessible.

A couple weeks ago I drove through McDonalds to get my coffee and the employee taking my money was a young man, maybe 20 years old. He noticed the speaker right away and while I can't recall the exact youthful language he used to express interest in my car, the gist of it was "pardon me ma'am, do you enjoy your car stereo?" When I said I probably wasn't the kind of person to fully appreciate it, he smiled and said - and this is a quote - "I bet you bump bump to the clubs every night."

Now there's an intriguing thought. Bump bumping to the clubs every night with the bass cranked up on the Temptations and Norah Jones.

At the drive-thru a few days later, the same young man took my money. I said something clever like "Oh, you're here again."

"Always here," he said, "How's the boom boom?"

The boom boom. The bump bump. ’S all good. I'm down wid it. Jammin' wit the James Taylor.

This week - coffee time again - and I know I drink too much but addiction is addiction. As I'm gathering up my 1.69, I hear "Aaaay, it's boom boom."

Boom boom. Yep, that's how I roll. Boom boom mama in her bad ass car.