On my way home from dropping the kids off at school this morning, I stopped at a stoplight because I like to follow the law of the land and also, fatal accidents pretty much suck.
The driver two cars behind me had a different opinion, however - he proceeded to rear-end the driver behind me and all South Florida hell broke loose. Of course, there were a lot of fuck yous because that term is adjective, noun and verb down here. Then there were hand gestures that would put Spock to shame, red faces that told the story of anger and impatience and the constant sounds of honking horns because that's how South Floridians communicate the best.
And all I could think of as I drove away from that holy nightmare was "I better stop wearing my pajamas when I go out because what if that was me that got hit and I have to get out of the car and confront someone while not wearing a bra?"
As I'm telling Carl this, I know he's calculating whether we have enough money in the bank account to buy a one-way ticket for himself to somewhere far away and exotic.
Unfortunately for him, we do not have enough money for his supposed getaway.