[ WP ] You know the random driver in every action movie where the hero jumps in and orders to `` follow that car ! '' . Yup , that 's you . Every single time you 're trying to get anywhere .

“ Thank Christ, ” I mumbled, dropping the last passenger off for the night. It ’ s been a really shitty night – drunk assholes throwing up in my backseat, methed up hookers fighting with their pimps about the cost of different sex acts, and just now some idiot in a red Mercedes almost side swiped my door. 
 
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 But that ’ s all over with. Now I finally can switch off my light, go grab a beer with Christine and smooth things over with her. 
 
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 “ Follow that car, ” said a man, jumping into the back seat. He pointed at the speeding red Mercedes that nearly cost me a door. 
 
 
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 “ Sorry pal. Lights off means I ’ m off. ” 
 
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 “ Follow that car, ” repeated the man. “ Or I ’ ll fucking blow your brains out. ” The man slammed the barrel of a handgun it into my temple and pulled back the hammer. 
 
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 How many times does this have to happen to me? Do I have a sign on my car that says, “ Will follow anyone for free ”? This is the fourth time this week. The worse thing about getting car jacked like this is these assholes don ’ t pay the fair, nor do they leave a nice review on Uber. 
 
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 “ Sure thing masta, ” I said, gripping the wheel. “ Anything ya want masta. ” 
 
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 The man pulled the gun away and sat back. “ Cut the ‘ masta ’ shit out. And catch that car or I ’ m going to blow a hole in your head then fuck it. ” 
 
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 “ Gross, ” I said, slamming on the gas. The car fish tailed away from the curb and darted into traffic. A white truck slammed on the brakes. A blue Sedan slammed into the back of the truck, sending the truck driver flying through his windshield. 
 
 
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 “ I think I just killed a guy, ” I said, glancing in the review mirror. 
 
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 “ I ’ ll kill one if you don ’ t catch up with that car, ” said the man. 
 
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 I mashed the gas and started weaving in and out of traffic like a drunken Grand Theft Auto player. I looked up hoping to see the man being tossed around in the backseat, but he sat in the middle seat with a huge shit eating grin. 
 
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 “ Nice try, ” said the man. 
 
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 “ Fuck, ” I mumbled under my breath. I pushed the gas with every ounce of strength I had and closed the distance to the Mercedes to a car length. The man in the back leaned forward and screamed, “ Ram it. ” 
 
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 “ How? He ’ s in a Mercedes and I ’ m driving a fucking Nissan. ” 
 
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 “ Figure it out, ” said the man, jamming the gun into my ear. “ Or you ’ re fucking dead. ” 
 
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 Why does this guy have to keep threatening me? Can ’ t he see I ’ m trying to do what he wants? 
 The light ahead turned red. I tap the brakes. “ Don ’ t even think about it, ” screamed the man. 
 
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 “ Sorry. Instinct ” I said, stepping on the gas and closing my eyes. 
 
 
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 “ Open your goddamn eyes, ” snapped the man. 
 
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 “ My bad, ” I said. “ First time running an intersection. ” 
 
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 The Mercedes zigged and zagged. I kept up as best I could. Always one car length behind, never being able to gain enough ground. Until the god of traffic answered my prayers. A fender bender between two taxis held up traffic. The red Mercedes didn ’ t have anywhere to go. 
 
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 “ Slam into him, ” screamed the man. 
 
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 “ You paying my insurance? ” I shouted back. 
 
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 “ I ’ ll pay your goddamn funeral, ” screamed the man. 
 
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 “ Fuck this, ” I shouted, slamming on brakes. The car screeched to a stop. The man flew forward smashing into the windshield. I glanced behind me and saw a dump truck rushing towards us. “ Fuck you asshole, ” I said to the unconscious body. 
 
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 I unbuckled my seat belt and dove out of the car right as the dump truck smashed into my car, sending chunks of metal and shards of glass spurted into the sky. 
 
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 People on the sidewalks screamed and ran. I stood up and brushed myself off. I pulled out my cell phone, hit the Snapchat app and selected Christine ’ s name. “ See bitch. I told you I wasn ’ t lying about the crazy shit happening to me this week. It ’ s your turn to get a fucking job. I quit ” 

