Now I’m at Subway’s TRYING to eat my sandwich. And for ten minutes straight there was this car parked on the curb about 10 feet away from me. This beat-up jalopy. And the engine is running non-stop, which is making this loud, hideous, rattling noise. And even worse, it’s spewing out this stream of noxious carbon monoxide that is permeating the entire restaurant. I’m practically gagging as I’m trying to eat my sandwich.
So I’m glaring at the car. And I want to KILL whoever is responsible for this travesty.
Then I realize the car-owner is at the counter of Subway’s ordering his sandwich. He’s obviously left his car running because it’s such a piece of junk he probably won’t be able to start it again if he turns it off. The guy is about 6-foot-3, 250 pounds, wearing a tank-top, and his upper body is heavily muscled and covered with tattoos.
I decide not to kill him after all.
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.
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