Author: Ken "Hawkeye" Glassman

The overanxious sportbike rider had tucked himself right behind the left rear bumper of the station wagon and couldn’t see the possible danger.  I was now saying to myself, “Don’t go, pal . . .the wagon may have to stop and you won’t have room to clear the intersection.  Don’t do it, DON’T DO IT.” 
And then I screamed out loud in my helmet, “NOOOO !”