I was backing out of a spot at the supermarket this morning, and a young girl with a sleeve tattoo was in the space next to me, texting on her phone with her car door open. I opened my window and told her I was trying to get out. She said sorry and closed the door. Then she walked in between our cars to the front and started screaming at the top of her lungs, and then squatted down like she was suffering very deeply from something.
By then I was backing out. I thought I'd stop and maybe ask what was wrong. But honestly I wanted to eat my rotisserie chicken. Every day now I eat a full rotisserie chicken throughout the day from the local supermarket as a way to get the right macronutrient balance. But I think I would've stopped if not for the sleeve tattoo.
Just imagine if a guy was driving 999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999,999, mph on the autobahn in Germany