Thread: Lisa's car needs a fashionista touch Who: Lisa, Kurt (and presumably Puck) When: 9/11, early afternoon What: Kurt said to swing by with her baby, so she did. Warnings: Lisa's mouth, potential hard ons for a car.
She'd said she'd be by around one. Normally, she really didn't crawl out of her bed until noon on a Sunday, and she had fully intended on going to the party on Saturday night. But the second she'd said 'Lima Heights' her Uncle had practically wailed and her Aunt had fired into this horrible spiel about 'dangerous' places and 'unsavoury' people. It was like they didn't know her at all. She called her mother to explain that she needed to educate her sibling and his wife on the nature of New York -seriously, did they think that Lima had something worse than Brooklyn?
Either way, she didn't get her ride into town and spent the night at home, alone, watching reruns of Next Top Model and lamenting at her shitty existence. The bad in this town seriously outweighed the good.
So she was up around ten on Sunday, but took her own sweet time, since it wasn't like she was expected until after noon. Her girl needed a bit of a push start, mostly because she'd been parked up on the grass and getting her down the 'drive' was a fucking bitch. She missed drive ways, she missed a garage, what the fuck was with all the grass.
With her stereo turned up to drown out the light screech and occasional sputter -and she didn't know if it was her breaks or her exhaust or both but that was what the mechanic was for- Lisa found her way to Hummel's after stopping for cherry vines and a latte. Five past one. It wasn't too bad.