Marty, whatever he thinks, did not name me. He just guessed correctly.
One of the Quality Control inspectors, when I came off of the assembly line, named me Juan Ponce de Leon, after my color reminded him of the exploration he used to do with his father. He was of Spanish descent, told me that he'd just lost his father, and told me stories as he checked me for flaws.
I was sold to a nice gentleman in Tennessee who bought me and barely used me. His name was Albert. His longest trip, in fact, was to drive me to Florida, where he drove me mostly to the grocery store and back home. I don't know much about his life, because he spent so little time in me, but he kept me clean and shiny, he kept me well-lubricated, and he kept taking me for regular maintenance. Then, one day, he stopped, and I was sold to a gangly kid with stars in his eyes. Marty.
I'd only been with him one week when he uttered my real name for the first time. If I could have, I would've jumped for joy, but I settled for giving that gangly kid the smoothest ride home that I could. Marty also kept me shiny and clean, he changed my oil, and he grew into a man that I feel proud to have given my loyalty to.
I don't know why I'm telling you this. Perhaps it's because you're a beautiful older woman, and I've always had a thing for older women. Maybe because you're such a pretty blue, with such pretty trim. Maybe it's because you're stuck in this barn with me, and I feel a bit of kinship. I've never been away from Marty this long since I became his, so maybe I'm just lonely. He trusts your owner with me, though, so I feel like you're my cousin, just a little bit, if you don't mind.
I have a surprise planned for him and, I guess, for your owner. You see, I have a bit of a special feature that even Albert didn't know about and that Matt has never guessed at. But I'll keep that secret, for now. I don't want you to try to tell your owner, after all. It's enough that I'll be surprising Marty - I hope he enjoys it while he's on his trip.
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