thoughts from the drive home

(1) driving past the high-priced hand car wash and detailing place, a sign that says "Brazilian Wax." Now, I've never heard of this for cars before. What's next, cars that need pedicures?

(2) at a stoplight, I look over at the blond girl in the silver convertible in the lane next to me, and she is mouthing/singing the words to the song that is playing on the radio in my car (that Divinyls hit, on the all 80s station). Now, statistically speaking, hundreds/thousands of people in our metro area must be listening to that station simultaenously, but I've never before known for sure that my neighbor was sharing the listening experience.

(3) there has been a small snail perched on the lintel over our front doorway for two days now. I think about her/him quite a bit. (assuming snails have gender, though I realize I don't really know). How did she get up there, and how long did it take? Is she going to get anything to eat, or is this some kind of hunger strike to draw to my attention the snail like pace of my work? Or is the message something else, like slow down and appreciate the small things of the summer?