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The day is gray with a cool clear breeze blowing as we head on down the highway; just the thing to clear my late-night drunken head. I crack the window slightly and inhale deeply, staring out past my reflection as we glide beneath a three-tier bridge. I see nothing but the possibility for code, and begin processing the intel; equating passing cars and opposing directions with 1s and 0s. What information could be gleaned from such a study? I examine license plate numbers and count the occupants of passing cars, noting the strict male-to-female quotas established, filing these figures away for later usage as part of some longer string.
We love our cars, do we not? The glossy streamlined metal available in our all favorite colors; the sleek, black plastic and the smoked, privacy glass. Our use of this technology relies heavily on the invisible magic of the combustion engine, which people seem to be completely ignorant to. It\'s a whole other world over there in that lane; basic human contact separated by safety glass and a narrow, colliding wind tunnel moving at speeds upwards of 70 miles an hour, gliding in and out of the file paths with incredible ease, safe in the womb of personal comfort and stereophonic sound as the broken line whips by.
A man yelling into his cell phone with one hand and eating with the other, the engine purring along, swings into view. What would happen if his engine were to throw a rod at a crucial point, or if his tire blew? What would happen if he suddenly failed to be in command of this carefully controlled, luxury cruise missile with plush leather seats?
Imagine the horrific noise of tires, screaming for purchase; the shattering of glass, the destroyed human form, butchered beyond recognition. Picture the fragments of bone imbedded in the soft calfskin, and all that warped, twisted metal repainted in so much blood. Everyone who has yet to leave their house or even turn the ignition will pass this still fictional wreck at some point within the hour, rubbernecking at the mess and cursing the delay.
Did you know that clean-up crews use Coke to get blood off the highway?
Are you looking for a portable CD/cassette/AM/FM player at 1PM on a Sunday afternoon? I can point you toward no less than three locations in a hot second, all within a five minute drive for you and your brand-new four-wheel drive vehicle; two of them conveniently on the way to an all-you-can-eat buffet for less than ten dollars, which just happens to be in the same plaza of the new 24-screen movie theater. You can see the hit of the week the critics are raving about, and then cross the plaza and buy the soundtrack (to go with that CD player you\'ve already forgotten about), the poster, a cardboard standee, the t-shirt, and a plastic likeness of the protagonist.