You: Driving a souped up Beemer with the bass kickin’, talking on your cell phone, and driving fast so I’d know how cool you are.
Me: In the crosswalk with both a green light and a walk sign. I only had time to bang on your hood and scream, “Red light, Fuckhead!” as I jumped out of the way. I can’t get the smell of your burning tires out of my nose.
There’s so much more to say. Do you want the chance as much as I do?