Car Dancing

I'm in my sexy mini-van, sitting at a stop light with the radio blaring. I am car dancing and I could care less who sees it. Over the din of the music, you can hear screams. I look over at the car next to me, and some young thing primping in her itty-bitty car mirror shoots me a wilting glance. The light changes and I drive off, singing along to Matchbox 20 and ignoring the toddler in the back.
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