This reminds me of a story from fairly recently as I was traveling through the great state of ALLEERRBAMMMEERR (College Football capital of the world. Roll Tide and War Cam.)
I was driving one of my many performance cars in my possession. I have so many small performance cars. Some people from the south tend to think I cannot handle a large vehicle since I have so many small "zippy" cars. "Cute little toys" they were.
On this particular day, I needed gas. I stopped at this hybrid gas station/truck stop. On one side, you could gas up normal vehicles, and on the other side, you could fuel your vehicle of choice for a work truck that may or may not be used in the Mexican cartels.
I opted to prepay and go inside. There aren't very many people at this truckstop, so the two guys inside with beards, mesh-backed hats, and sleeveless flannel shirts were pointing to my Z and chuckling (the redneck chuckle that could sometimes be mistaken for a small child hyperventilating on the playground after a rough game of tag). The one that looked like he was a love child between a dude on Duck Dynasty and Larry the Cable Guy approached me first.
"I HAVE TRUCK. YOU HAVE TINY CAR. I WANT TO GO FAST. YOU WANT TO GO FAST BUT NOT FAST AS TRUCK. TINY MAN."
Thankfully, my primary occupation is that of a translator for a major consultant firm, and I specialize in 17 different languages. To my advantage, one of those languages is "retarded *** redneck". I interpreted his infantile sentence formulation as a sort of challenge to my Z with whatever truck he was driving. I quickly scrambled for a rebuttal which would satisfy his truck-driver-complex but also avoid completely eluding the peak of this man's mental capacities.
"NOPE," I replied. "YOU WIN."
Upon his realization that I could perhaps predict the future, and the future appeared to favor his wildest aspirations, he was completely stunned and speechless. I handed him a piece of beef jerky, got my gasoline, and moved on with my life.
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