"I saw lights."

"You saw bullshit."

His mood got us all happy.

Casey said that Kim's straw hat looked like something out of Elvira

Madigan by way of Kate Hepburn. Steve picked it up with peasant-girl

jokes and farm girl jokes, most of which centered on Kimberley's ample

breasts and thighs, her most conspicuous features. Kim countered with

references to the weekend "orgy" between Casey and me, and the whole

thing got pretty tasteless,

We did plenty of laughing. Finally Casey made some comment about the

inevitability of a discussion of Kimberley's breasts in any social

gathering in which she, Kimberley, was a part, and Kim pulled off the

big wide-brimmed hat and stuffed it under the seat and said, okay, you

want 'em, you got 'em, and proceeded to peel off the powder blue tank

top she was wearing and toss it over her head into the wind.

We watched it flutter down behind us.

We were about a mile from the beach and there she sat, half-naked, her

nipples puckering in the breeze.

"Cute," said Casey. "Now what are you gonna wear home?"

Kim giggled. "You worried about it? You shouldn't be. You better

wonder what you're gonna wear!" There was a brief struggle behind

us.

Moments later Casey's work shirt was observed to waft through the air

and drape itself over a roadside cattail.

So now we had two half-naked women in the backseat. The road ahead was

deserted. Behind us too. But I kept seeing squad cars pulling us

over, officers peering ironically. The girls were laughing so hard

their faces flushed red.

"Well, sh/t!" said Steven.

The car began to weave and halt fitfully as he unzipped his jeans and

worked them over first one leg and then the other over his sneakers. It

took a while but finally he was out of them. I was glad to see he had

his briefs.

He placed wallet, belt, and house keys neatly on the seat beside him

and handed me a fistful of change and then flipped the pants

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