We were moving about as fast as shit in a clogged sewer, but there was nothing I could do about it except relax and wait. I can do that when I have to, but some red-necked turkey in the car next to me had on a quadraphonic speaker system that was playing country-and-western garbage loud enough to be heard in Oklahoma. He was wearing a Hawaiian-patterned rayon shirt and puffing on a fat cigar which he didn’t bother to remove from his mouth when he drank from a can of Lucky Lager. I scowled across at him and he laughed like he thought he was some king of the road. Since the traffic wasn’t moving
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