I don’t normally make a habit of telling people off in the street, but when they start it, I do so with gusto. I was walking out of target to see that a chubby man with a bad combover in a bright red thunderbird had parked next to me. As I was getting into my explorer, we exchanged the following:

“Nice SUV! That thing come with a soccer mom? (stupid pretentious laughter)”

“Nice midlife crisis. That thing come with a forboding sense of your own mortality?”

He was still standing there with his mouth open when I drove off.