Stealth and the Highway

My Stealth is on again.  I noticed it the third time someone pulled their car out in front of me.

The first two were obvious flukes.  One did that rolling stop at the sign.  The frantic look in his eye as he juggled coffee in one hand and his cell in the other–a sight to behold.

The second one squeezed between me and an eighteen wheeler.  I prayed the truck driver didn’t put on his brakes as I switched lanes.

No, it was the third one that clued me in.  The one growing bigger in my rear-view mirror, until all I could see was hood. Big red hood. Yikes! I sped up to avoid a collision, hitting eighty in one-point-three seconds.

Why do car manufacturers do that?  I didn’t order Stealth for my car.  As a matter of fact, I requested the really shiny one so everyone on the road could see me.

Ummm, including cops.  Damn.

Why doesn’t my Stealth work when I need it?


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