Dusk. The windows must be down. Saturday night. 72F \/ 22C. A warm breeze. Fresh air. A quick left, then the middle lane. Accelerate. Stop light. Sprint. Left lane. Wait for traffic, turn left. A quick right, more traffic. <\/p>\n
Then, a red car. An unusual shape. Windows open as well. <\/p>\n
Left hand knifing in and out of the driver’s window. Something in the driver’s hand.<\/p>\n
Dangling. <\/p>\n
Fast motions. We share the same lane. Accelerate. Paddles<\/a>. <\/p>\n The breeze delights.<\/p>\n Crossing State street<\/a> – slowly, lots of people walking and biking.<\/p>\n Nancy: “I think we are sharing his joint”.<\/p>\n The red Saab drifts in and out of the center lane. The left hand continues to dangle, the joint slicing the breeze.<\/p>\n Then, we part company, the joint a quick left, destination unknown, while we continue on our tried and true path to dinner. <\/p>\n Windows down. A terrific October breeze.<\/p>\n A red Saab, an unusual Saabaru<\/a>, the 9-2x<\/a>. <\/p>\n Another edition of my “auto anthropology” observations.<\/p>\n