You Layed On Me Twice and Gave Me Fake Numbers
I fully agree with you, the wait is long as one tries to turn from Sunset onto Hilgard, and it's not abnormal to start fidgeting out of boredom. Is that why, as I was so convinced that lovin' is indeed what I got, your reverse lights went on? Maybe you were just playing with the accurate, Japanese crafted action of your automatic gear selector? Perhaps this was an attempt at philanthropy by giving me a new set of lights to ponder as I passed the time? Maybe you have a basic fascination with cause and effect, and you enjoy seeing the D become unlighted when you move the stick, and the R turn red as you move it down.
Because of the loving that I had, I smiled as you reversed onto my Acura Integra and sat there for a moment, and then another moment, and then quite a few more moments. I'm sure you just thought the horn honking was a nifty sound effect used on Power 106 (similar to Big Boy's charming cow bell), or perhaps a large bird of prey engaged in activities irrelevant to you. You did, thankfully, realize you had sat your rear suspension and drive shaft on my hood and pulled off in no time flat, about 30 seconds.
I take full responsibility for what happened next. My pointing out my window and yelling, "Pull over there!" could easily be mistaken for "That was awesome! Reverse onto me again!" Being the diligent direction-follower that you are, you promptly snapped that square back around the R, heard another bird of prey feast on an animal, and sat down like a good boy on my hood. This time you decided to really show me your moves, you big showoff! I really didn't need to be able to give you a detailed description of what your exhaust pipe's interior looked like (a little rusty. You might want to have that checked).
After your second feat, you didn't go for a three-peat and just pulled over to the side of Hilgard. Trust me, dude, I completely understand that it's your friend's car and you're not used to its gear changer. I've been there, man. Every time I borrow somebody's car, I have to figure out what makes the damn thing go, then I gotta figure out what makes the mother-effer stop, and let's not even get started on how to make those lights stuck on the front of it turn on when the sun goes to bed. Why, just the other week I borrowed my friend's car, got confused with the velocitator, and ended up finishing third in the Monaco Grand Prix! The craziest things happen when you borrow someone's car!
I guess it was because you were using my pen, instead of your old familiar Bic, that you gave me a disconnected number and a phony address. I know how it is -- you have to learn to write accurate information with just one pen. A new utensil throws the whole process off. Don't even get me started on eating with anything but my old trusty fork.
Luckily for me, I was using my own pen, so I recorded both your driver's license and license plate correctly, and I remember exactly what you look like. And unless that was a phony State Farm agent I just talked to, I think I might have picked up your scent after all.