Wow! That's Fast!

I sat at the stoplight fuming. I hated working lunches. Not only do lunch customers suck, but so did the little Chinese bastard I had to work for, and his little gang of Chinese whores.

I was the white guy. The one hired to drive and interact with the customers, because the shady little motherfuckers did nothing but piss customers off.

There wasn't a day in my life that I hated working for the little bastard, but the pay was just good enough not to leave.

Will this fucking stoplight ever turn green?

I watched in horror as no less than four school busses turned onto the avenue in front of me.

Fuck.

A 4x4 pickup truck moves into the turn lane beside me, and belches diesel smoke directly into my open window.

The rage narrows my vision. It's all that little yellow bastard's fault.

The turn lane light turns green, the stink of diesel fills the interior of the car while the roar of the truck's engine drowns out one of my favorite songs.

My head begins to slowly explode.

In the instant blink of a digital eye, the light turns green, unleashing the naked, unfounded anger behind my enraged, irrational eyes.

300 pounds of leaden foot drops like an anvil onto 300 supercharged horsepower.

Freedom! Like a shot of anti-psychotic drugs, the acceleration melts away my depravity, my insanity, my irrational hatred, and brings a curve of a smile to my soured puss.

It's why I put up with this bullshit. The tires chirp as the transmission snaps into 2nd gear right on the redline. I've got this sucker floored.

Racing up the hill the line of school busses goes down fast. The first one in the left lane, the second one in the right lane, then instantly dodging into the other lane again as the next two busses come up on the left.

HAHA! See ya suckers in the yellow hammers later.

I love this job. Love that little Chinese guy who lets me earn twenty bucks an hour to do this shit. Love the world. I even love school busses and 4x4 diesel trucks.

Grinning ear to ear I throw a glance into the rearview mirror, and look back down the hill at the scene I just left behind.

I'm doing about 120 in a 45.

Behind and between the school busses are cops. Lots and lots of cops. Little blue and red bubble gum machines EVERYWHERE.

Ooops.

I shot past the liquor store on the right like a bat out of hell.

Looking in the rear-view the cops are threading their way between the busses. The lead cop is halfway up the hill already.

Shit.

Looking for a spot to shut down, I see the convenience store coming up on the right. I haven't been in a police chase in almost 20 years. Things have changed. I'm not going to get out of this one. I start thinking about the charges that are coming against me as I hit the brakes hard and slide into the c-store parking lot.

I'm going to jail...again.

I roll up into the parking lot and park off to the side, by the dumpster. I gotta get out of the car and throw something in it before they come rolling up.

Reaching for my seatbelt, I see the first two cops go screaming past me down the avenue, with their lights and sirens going.

I don't get out of the car, but instead ease it into reverse, and head for the left side of the parking lot, behind the gas pumps.

The other cops pass the convenience store.

No fuckin way.

Looking left and right, I pull out into the street going back the way I'd come. Looking in the rear-view for cops, I light my blunt.

Down the hill and back at the traffic light where this all started, I see two more cops at the light, headed the way I'd just come from. I hold my bomber low, and take a right at the light. This will take me out into the country about a mile, then another right, and two miles later I'll be at the destination I was headed to when I started to cause myself a lot of trouble.

Puff puff.

I take a detour through a gated community with the gates open because it's daytime.

Toke toke.

A few minutes later I pop back out on the road, and continue toward my destination, sucking on that roach.

Throwing the last 1/8 of an inch of blunt out the window, I see my turn coming up to make the customer's address. I've got my shit together now.

Turning onto the customer's street, which intersects both the street that I'm on, and the one where I'd caused so much mayhem for the local authoritarians, I see a cruising cop approaching the intersection slowly.

I wave to him most incorrigibly.

Arriving at my destination, the customer is in the yard, and surprised to see me. "Wow! That's fast!" she exclaims.

So I tell her. No big deal. I could have been here a lot sooner, but I smoked a doobie, stopped at a gas station, and got in a police chase on the way over here.

She laughs and tells me I'm hilarious, and tips me $5.

I love hating this job.