And once outside I beat him to the car as well, leaping into the shotgun seat. One time Bernie tried doing the same trick. That was a funny day. He turned the key, shifted the shift – I love watching the shifting – and we were off.
The Valley goes on and on in all directions – have I mentioned that? We got on a freeway, then another, traffic stop-and-go at first, which made Bernie’s hands tense up on the wheel, but then it eased and we barreled along, the Porsche making a rumbling roar I loved and sights and smells zipping by so fast it would make your head spin. Mine doesn’t spin, exactly, but I can turn it pretty far back if I want, like really, really far, so that my nose is actually touching my –
“Chet! What the hell are you doing?”
I whipped my head around straight, sat up tall and still, eyes front, a professional through and through.
– from Thereby Hangs A Tail.
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