I've been delivering pizza in my 116 for papa john. On my way back from a delivery coming down the 26, onto the freeway enters a little sporty coup Beamer convertable and he tries speeding past me, so natrually as a young pizza driver in a Benz turbodiesel, I began pacing on side of him. Hes got long grey hair, sunglasses, leather jacket and blaring the talking heads- insync with his recent midlife crisis I suppose- we hit ninety before my better judgment got to me. He cruses ahead and gets off at the same exit as me, now side by side at a red light, I put her in reverse, stop and gestured to exchange words. He turns down his talking heads and I ask him this:
"excuse me sir... Do you have any grey poupon?"
