Sitting in the torn and cigarette burned bucket seat, he softly hums the sweet and gentle melody of "Slow Ride", as he struggles to suppress a single tear.
With a brief surge of hope, however futile, he turns the ignition key.
Finally, the man releases his grip on his youth. Distant memories rapidly pulse through his brain: Racing down the dirt road between the interstate and the creek, running them Mexicans off the road just outside of town, waiting for Susie - dear, sweet, Susie - to finally pass out in the back seat so he could shake off his innocence and succumb to his destiny as a man.
He sits alone in the Camaro, longing, wanting for those carefree days and wondering how his life might be different, had he made different choices, when a thought - an epiphany - pierces the haze of cheap beer and hard life, striking him with the deep and all important realization that...
...it's time for Judge Judy.
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