“Damn red lights. Think of all the wasted time. Wasted potential.”
Teddy’s face was red. His hands strangled the steering wheel.
“Chill out, man,” I said. “That’s why we have toilets. To reclaim time.”
“Unlike your nasty ass,” Teddy said, “I don’t read on the john.”
“Correction: You don’t read at all.”
John Lennon serenaded us from the radio.
“Plus,” I offered, “it’s not like we’re going anywhere important. You’re laid off.”
Thirty seconds later, we were pulled over.
“Dammit!” I spat. “You really couldn’t wait?”
“Wasted potential!” Teddy shouted.
Wasted potential, I thought, watching Teddy think of what to say.
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