t seems like sound advice. A reasonable request. I get into the car, and the door slams shut. The engine roars, and the car speeds off into the flat horizon, leaving the spotlights spinning in a cloud of dust.

Back in Seattle, parallel parked on some dimly lit street outside some dingy rock club, my old car sits, cold and lifeless. The windows will probably be broken and the CD player stolen before morning. That’s ok. I won’t mind.
 

End