If you’re gonna ride my ass, at least pull my hair

The crazies were out in full force last night; let me assure you of that. K-turns in the middle of major roads, people on the wrong side of an entrance/exit divider, and that’s before I’ve gotten to any of my passengers. My Pandora game continues to be on-point as I had a full car of riders belting out Bowling for Soup’s “1985” when it came up. My star drunkards of the night was a middle-aged threesome from the South Park area, the leader of which curled up with my bottle of Mountain Dew for half the trip while another stroked my beard when I turned around to back up out of the driveway. My last trip of the night was a long quiet ride on I-85 to Concord. The driveway to their home was so steep that when I backed down it, it made my car engage some kind of automatic “let’s not die today” lock-up function. A quick re-ignition resolved that issue but that’s just poor urban design.


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