I appreciate your assistance in this matter, said no one in Miami ever

The stu­pid fuck­head was­n’t just in the wrong lane — they were two lanes too far, with no way out of the exit lane before the exit.

But they made space and time for their SUV’s last-second exo­dus, rather pre­sump­tu­ous­ly bor­row­ing the space where my car should have been. And their turn sig­nal must not have burned out — could there be any oth­er expla­na­tion for such an irre­spon­si­ble slight?

I con­grat­u­lat­ed them on a maneu­ver well-executed with my horn. They did­n’t seem to notice. As our cars drift­ed fur­ther apart, I found that for some rea­son I just had to gaze upon this spec­i­men of unadul­ter­at­ed Mia­mi dri­ver­dom. I glanced over and saw just the sil­hou­ette of a pro­file. Only but a moment lat­er, a lighter came into view and lit the cig­a­rette between their lips.

Not sur­prised, not even a little.