Every car has a story. Or maybe many stories. There’s the story of the car itself. How the car came to be in the possession of the driver. Then there’s the story of the driver and what the heck are they doing next to you in traffic. If there’s passengers, there are more stories.
Perhaps the driver turns to the passenger next to him and says, “So, you’re not going to marry me?” She might say, “You bet your sweet booty I won’t marry you.” “Then why are we still dating?” “I thought you might win the lottery.” The car is thinking, “Ha. Him win the lottery. He’s got worse luck than Louis XVI.” In case, you didn’t know. Louis XVI was Marie Antoinette’s cake-eating husband.
man in the next car
stopped at an intersection
it’s his turn to go
Uncle Bardie's Stories & Such 
Ha! I often wonder about the people sitting next to me at intersections – who are they? where are they going? Are they wondering the same thing about me?
Probably not. They’re probably wondering about where they are going to take their next selfie. That’s the kind of people they are.
Ha! Too bad!