So tell me: are you a car sitter? Why? I get it if you are early for an appointment. It’s more relaxing to sit alone in the comfort of your car than a germ riddled waiting room full of coughers, smokers, and dopers. But I see these people that I feel like sit in their car for extended periods every time they get in their car. I mean, I like Maggie a lot, but I don’t wanna hang out in her. I want to go places—fast—but not just…sit there. Unless I’ve caught one of my favorite songs on the radio, which is unlikely, since I rarely listen to the radio. Are they evading responsibilities of family? Kind of hiding, saying, “I’m still at the store,” which technically isn’t a lie. Even though they could have left fifteen minutes prior. Do they not worry about being approached by unsavory characters? I don’t like to idle. I feel exposed in parking lots. Somebody could slash your tires, rendering you immobile, then slash your throat. Nope. And I don’t even watch true crime shows. Anyway. Just something I’ve observed that I don’t understand. The list is long of things I study on but never come any closer to figuring out. Chapman Highway is still riddled with potholes. For every one they fix three come to its funeral. There’s a deep one at the Wye. And today I passed a car…