I pulled up to the traffic light and braked slowly. The light was red. I pulled the grocery list out of my sweatshirt pocket and skimmed over it again: grated cheese (sharp cheddar), red bell pepper, ground beef (1.5 lb)... Shouldn't take me but a few minutes.
The light changed to green, and cars started inching forward. Out of the corner of my ear, I heard the whine of a something like a jet engine screaming with giddy glee, growing steadily louder. Actually, my mind barely had time to register that, since but a second later, I was jerked sideways forcibly as my sedan went flipping through the air across the street, straight into a building.
You only wish you could afford this thing.
It's entirely commonplace to see these cars blasting through the crowded downtown at hundreds of miles an hour, weaving between traffic, skidding crazily around corners with seemingly no traction to speak of, and executing all manner of daredevil feats using whatever naturally occurring ramps they can find.
Of course, these people have all the other hapless citizens who drive regular four door sedans or pickup trucks or underpowered hybrids at a disadvantage. Every day, hundreds of people are casualties of their whimsical sport. Well, not casualties
, exactly, but you know what I mean. But what do they care? The law suffers their recklessness. Nobody's getting hurt. Everything here is made with Impact, so it all heals automatically.
I want to say that I'm angry at their lack of consideration, but really, in the end, when you boil it all down and remove the fancy words and righteous indignation, it's probably just that I'm jealous.
LOOK WHO CAME: