I was waiting at the light to get out of the Modell’s plaza the other day.
Between me and the exit, a chunky guy in a maroon SUV was ashing his cigarette out of his driver’s side window. He must have just lit it because it had lots of white in front of the filter when it fell out of his hand and hit the pavement beside his car.
Beat.
The guy poked his big head out of the window and looked at the butt like a kitten who’d lost a toy down a heating grate.
Beat.
He opened the car door.
Beat.
I saw his bottom of his left boot.
Beat.
The light turned green.
Beat.
The boot vanished and the door closed. The SUV took a squealing left onto South Willow.
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