Young love takes root wherever it can, including the front seats of automobiles.
What am I thinking? Young love blossoms in the front seat, the back seat, on the hood, in the trunk; unbridled lust knows no specific address. But the traditional place for it all to start is the front seat. That's what I mean.
Which is why I lament the demise of the bench seat. How much easier for your honey to scootch over when there's nothing in the way? Put your arm around her, snuggle close and keep on driving.
They were the days.
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