Becky the Love Doll

The wheels on the truck went wump, wump, wump this morning as I left the house.  I've owned the GMC for ten years now and have never once had to change a tire - I was always able to limp in some place and get a tire repaired without having to do it in the road, so to speak.  No such luck today.  After finding the necessary tools, and swearing incessantly, I got the spare on and drove to my favorite tire shop - not far from the office.  They were swamped and asked me to leave the truck.  Since it's such a nice day, I decided to walk to work.

The first thing I noticed was the cloyingly sweet smell of honeysuckle - profuse along the road but, somehow, they were something I never noticed before.  A bluebird flew by and perched on the phone lines above.  The flash of blue caught my eye while the cool breeze kept the walk pleasant.  I was, honestly, sort of enjoying the walk on the road until:

Becky the Love Doll.

Actually, it was just an empty box.  I caught a glimpse of the box in the weeds and my mind started to wander.  Becky was my first real girlfriend and I don't think I ever referred to her as a 'love doll.'  I wondered if the doll looked like her though.  And then I wondered at someone who would buy such and, in a fit of impatient passion, take it out of the box before they even got home.

Do you think they blew the doll up (a la Otto, the emergency pilot) while they were driving?  Did they pretend the GPS' voice was Becky's?  (Turn left NOW.)  Was Becky Dutch?

Anyhow, whatever strains of Beethoven's Pastoral that might have been playing in my mental soundtrack were entirely drowned out by a different sort of wump, wump, wump.  So much for a nature walk.