Being between cars I needed to acquire another vehicle to facilitate long distance transportation. Ended up over at a familiar used car lot. The salesman was an attorney who figured that shilling cars was far more lucrative and honest than a career in law. It was late at night and he was staying late to make one more sale so he'd get his commission with that week's check. I was easy, I explained that my old car gave up the ghost and I just needed a new one. He grabbed some keys and led me to the lot where I saw a dark blue sportscar of an unknown make and model waiting in the lot.

This beast was fast and responsive, I was taking 90° turns without feeling inertia nor feeling like I was going to lose control. Each time I even glanced my foot against the accelerator my head would be thrown back against the seat as the tires dug into the road and powered forward with immeasurable ferocity. I couldn't find the brake but the car was smart enough to slow down and stop.

Fucking traffic underscored my machine's intelligence. Now it was daylight and I saw myself in that part of Union, NJ which can either head onto Route 22 west or turn off and enter my hometown. I cursed the people who erected a stoplight on that street which only served to choke that artery rather than ameliorate traffic. Now waiting behind the wheel gave me pause for reflection and I realized while I was given the keys the salesman did not give me the temporary docs that made it legal to drive the car.

What gets me is that at first I realize "Just sit back and enjoy the ride" and there's no panic but when it comes to "ONOZ!!! NO REGISTRATION OR TEMP PLATES!!!!" I fucking fall to pieces and the fun is over.

I pull over and start walking back to the dealership. Salesman is gone and I'm stuck waiting around for him to return so everything's legit. A little old woman with black hair, she reminded me of the costume maker in The Incredibles, walks in followed by her towering butler. He is giving, must remember that giving has only one 'v', a monologue about how The Lady killed herself again jumping off the roof of the office and how she'd do it again too if no one cares.

When I woke up I had "The Pinelands and the Vinelands, Seaside Heights, Margate! You can have Miami, I love the Garden State" running through my head. Fortunately I have the mp3 of I Like Jersey Best which settled that situation right-quick.