It appears as though I have a rival far worse than Carol Denning or Melina Gounaris, worse even than the damn boat! I really shouldn’t say that. After all NIMR employs me and the Seaview is vital to its continued success and my job. And she’s pretty enough for a submarine, I guess. But I never thought Lee could be just as enamored of this new contender for his affections.

Oh I’ve seen and ignored the looks he gives Tish, Angie, and Kate too. (And the ones they give him!)  I’ve even had to put up with knowing about  Dr. Rettig. Of course, I only had the crew’s word for that,  and apparently it changed as soon as he discovered her trying to kill the president. I saw a picture of her on the news after she was escorted ashore by the Secret Service. A wrinkled old crone with a cigarette dangling out of her mouth . No way Lee had had the hots for her! If he did, maybe he just has a thing about older women and/or ugly women. He was probably just being polite and the crew took it the wrong way. At least I hope so!  Anyway I digress.

My latest adversary seems to need Lee’s constant attention and I’m getting a bit tired of it.  My apartment is beginning to smell like automotive oil, gasoline and sweat whenever Lee returns from the garage ( where he spends most of his time checking on her.) She parked there now. Not for her a spot on the curb like any  ordinary car. Oh no, this ‘baby’ has to be protected from the elements, from  my laundry basket sitting on its hood, (it’s crowded in my garage, I had to put it down someplace when I switched over from washer to dryer!) to  my fingernails getting ‘too close’ as I open or close the door,  (because they might scratch it!)  He even scolds my cats for their paw prints! Well, okay, I can understand that after he’s washed and polished it. He doesn’t complain about the dog though, as long as he or I use a shop vac on the seat afterwards!

Good grief, no baby in the world gets as  much attention as he gives to his bright red Alpha Romeo. I have to admit it’s kind of cute, if a bit cramped. But then, sitting so close next to Lee with the wind in our hair  is well, kind of an aphrodisiac, at least to me. But after we park, it almost never fails that he leaps out of the car and starts checking under the chassis for  an inaudible  squeak or some such thing and spends the time with it that he should have spent with me!

Today I finally  gave him an ultimatum about his relationship with it. Perhaps it was a bit rash, but now, he knows that  if he’s tinkered with his toy in my garage, he has to take a full shower (complete with shampoo and body wash) before he can make my house look and smell like a commercial garage! I mean, after all, have you ever tried to remove motor oil from fur or worse, your hair?

 Well, he succumbed to my demands and after about a year in the bathroom (I'm sure he lingered to make me suffer), he finally emerged and leaned  against the door frame, (clothed only in a few stray trails of soapsuds), and asked me ‘if he could come out now’. He looked so ravishing, I about died and went to Heaven.

Perhaps I shouldn’t consider that car such a rival after all.