The compromise reached with Kebab daughter is that we’re going drive but we’ll do it in her car. A 2020 Alfa Romeo Stelvio.
I didn’t like the way she tossed the keys at me like I’m her servant. I did want to drive though so I didn’t say shit about it. It’s a hell of a machine as long as you don’t care about fuel economy, cargo space, or reliability.
KBD gave me the hairy eyeball when I was moving my stuff over to her car. She asked me in the most judgey way she could if I lived in my car.
“Sometimes, yeah.”
She eye-rolled so hard I thought she was going to knock herself over. I’m probably going to have to punch her in the liver at some point if I don’t want to keep taking her shit. This is probably anti-feminist but women should really hit each other more so they know it’s possible. Too many shit talkers like KBD do it because they don’t think another woman is going to bust their chops.
KBD is not such a bad travel buddy. She doesn’t mind discussing magic which is a nice change of pace for me. Like Stella KDB said that necromancy has been in her family for as long as she knows. In her case it doesn’t seem to have anything to do with the civil war though. She said that when her family went to Cuba in the 1800s they were already necromancers.
Also like Stella KDB said that the family tradition was to pass the magic knowledge from mother to daughter, but her great-great grandmother only had boys and she didn’t like any of her daughters in law to get them in on the act. The tradition was dead until KBD’s dad managed to teach himself from some old family books.
I asked her if her dad could afford to buy her a car like this one because of the garment business or the necromancy business. She didn’t know. Didn’t care either.
Rocket Cat 