I have a hula girl hanging in my truck. She's eight years old, split at the waist, and has a twin prong paper fastener piercing her belly button. I exhort her as we happily bounce down the road, "DANCE LITTLE HULA GIRL, DANCE!" She's (or was) an air freshener. She's special. I've had her in three pickup trucks.
Again, like the rack, she's been discontinued. Now all that're available are cheesy, lifeless, one piece paper (would you believe!) cutouts that aren't fit to fill her sandals.
The truck is finished. All I have to do is pack it. My Thursday appointment cancelled.
The hula girl is antsy. She says we should leave a day or two early for a shakedown cruise.
...smart hula girl.
FYI: If you know anyone with a stash of old hula girl air fresheners, I'll pay handsomely.
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