"What I Drive"
Do you know what I drive, Mr. Berg?
I drive a car paid for by father
A very wealthy man
Who would not be pleased
To hear you speaking to me
The way you have
I drive a car that may have
In its time
Run a few red lights
Run through a stop sign or two
Perhaps even run over a passing pedestrian
Who should have watched out for himself
Or herself
A bit better
That's all to be expected
After all
Cars make mistakes
They're like people that way
Sometimes they go too fast
Sometimes they break down too soon
Sometimes they bump a little too hard
And get dented in the process
But you can't fault them for it
Because really
It's all about who's driving them
I drive my car very carefully, Mr. Berg
But I am a woman driver
We're so careless
We see a young man crossing the street
A rather handsome young man
Who happens to be our husband's tennis coach
And who's happy to give us free lessons
When we ask nicely
And who's also prone to giving lessons
To the wives of other husbands
And when that crosses our mind
Our car might cross onto the sidewalk
And smash into that young tennis coach
And then drive away
As if nothing's happened
Women drivers
You men say
And you're right
We're so flighty
I drive a classic car, Mr. Berg
It's not new and flashy
But it gets me where I need to go
It gets done what I need done
And it does it swiftly
And without fuss
Other things aren't so efficient
Things, and I'm just naming objects here
Things like knives
Things like guns
Rope, blunt objects
Hitmen
Those sorts of things
Are messy
My car is not messy, Mr. Berg
Not at all
I get it washed every Sunday
And on the day my husband's tennis coach
Was struck down
By a car that looked just like mine
It was a Sunday
I gave the car a good scrub on that day
A nice, clean scrub with my own two hands
I'm not a woman
Who's afraid of hard work
Mr. Berg
I'm more than happy
To work hard
When I need my messes
Handled properly
That's why I'm here
To handle my mess
Because I understand my husband hired you
To see if I had anything to do
With Jeffrey's death
And I'm sure you've found out some things
Some things that the police
May have chosen to overlook
When my father
Also a wealthy man
Reminded them who golfs with the mayor
At least once a week
But my husband is pesky
He likes to dig, dig, dig
And I can't have that
So I plan on driving by his work this afternoon
He likes to walk to the local deli
And get pastrami on rye
The sidewalks on that part of town
Are so wide
You could drive right onto them
And not even know it
...I imagine
I can see that folder sitting on your desk
I can see my name on it
I can see that you're wondering
How much I brought with me
To pay you off
But I didn't bring any money
And I don't plan on getting any
All I have is my smile
And my car keys
And the only offer
I'm willing to make you
Is this, Mr. Berg
Would you like to take me
And my car
For a drive?
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