Pink Pony Club

Pink Pony Club

I’m middle-aged and driving our car.

I am listening to music and the entire family is in the car. My phone is playing music and a song has just ended. A song about a club of tinted equines starts. The song is repetitive and we’re all listening to the same words she repeats: “I’m going to the Pink Pony Club.” It’s a nice song. I see Zoe think and she’s got an interesting idea, and turns to Sadie. “Do you think the pony is a metap—.” Sadie, not looking up from her phone: “She’s a STRIPPER, Zoe.”

So we listened to the music and missed the analysis, but sometimes listening to music is just nice on its own.