The woman rested on her backside, back arched while her tongue pressed against the surface of her lips.  Thighs flexed and toes curled while she maneuvered beneath the beast above her.  Behind her thudded the rhythmic beat to pound out the mood of her day.  Even her breath switched to match this beat while she twisted and maneuvered.  Eyes narrowed suddenly as she felt what she needed so badly.  Fingers tightening on the instrument in her hand before there was a quick jerk.  Metal grinded on metal and she gave a sharp gasp.  A rusted nut dropped down onto the white shirt and a satisfied sigh.  The wrench in her hand gave a proud ring against the interior of the relic which consumed her mornings.   Hips rolled over the cart she rested against, baggy pants stained in grease moving with her body while her voice challenged the music around her.<br/><br/>“Cause we are so ghetto<br/>Yes we are rock and roll<br/>Yes we are so ghetto<br/>Yes we are rock and roll<br/>Yes we are so ghetto<br/>Yes we are rock and roll<br/>Yes we are so ghetto<br/>Yes we are - rock and motherfucking roll”<br/><br/>Fingers, decorated with various tattoos across those knuckles, gripped the edge of the car.  She dragged herself out from beneath the slab of metal parts.  Worn boots planted firmly on the ground so that she might rise.  Her body still swaying and twisting to the beat as it invaded her body.  Fingers sliding the length of her tools into their holders.  That rebellious nut set right beside them with a grin on her lips.  Her feet slipped away from the small table as she continued to enjoy the beauty of the morning in her garage.<br/><br/>“Ha, I am a fighter and a lover<br/>I'm the freaky baby daddy, I'm a bad motherfucker<br/>I'm the earth, wind, fire, and the thunder<br/>I said I am, go ask my mother<br/>You don't believe that shit believe what you want to<br/>Alright, OK, So, Shut-up!<br/>Speak language come straight from the gutter…”<br/><br/>The ringing of her comm. interrupted her revelry, the music automatically lowering as the call came in on a designated line.  Quickly her fingers activated the device as she knew this meant work and that meant money which meant well…more parts and more early mornings in her garage.  A simple nod was given while the instructions were given and with that she ended the festivities.<br/><br/>A towel was procured to wipe the grim from her face and hands.  Boots guiding her toward the door between her garage and home.  Idly she hoped the man from last night had taken the hint.  Never one for goodbyes and sometimes not even hellos, the awkwardness was something she hoped to avoid.  Though as she made her way to the bathroom a voice stirred from her bedroom.  A call for her to come back to bed was made with a curse and the slamming of that same bathroom door.<br/>