Where the hell am I?
Oh my God I'm in a car. I'm in the driver's seat of a Honda Civic in some godawful parking lot and I feel like I've been in a fight. Where's my…? Fuck there's a guy in a uniform looking at me. The sun just came up, I've been sleeping on the gear shift, and there's a guy in a uniform looking at me and getting suspicious. Rising panic.
Everything's going to be alright. I need to get my brain straight 'cause right now it feels like it's made of black jelly beans. I know there's a Whiskey Creamer around here someplace. God the asshole in the uniform's got a flashlight. What the fuck, it's 7:30 in the a.m.?
It's not in the ashtray.
There's a cup of coffee here between the seats from a couple days ago that's got a few swallows left. That's good.
Where's that Whiskey Creamer? I've got to find it before that authority figure gets over here. Sooner or later I'm going to have to look under the seats, so I might as well do it now. Aw gross, the first thing I touched licked me! No, I'm pretty sure my Whiskey Creamer ain't under here. Maybe it's in the with the tapes. Hey, where the hell is my Eagles?! Nope, no Whiskey Creamer.
I'll check the visor. Score! Shades are always a bonus. That security guard with the flashlight is on his way over here. I hope he trips and breaks his legs. The glove compartment! Of course! Why didn't I think to look here before sticking my hand under the seat? There it is, 100% genuine Whiskey Creamer, worth its weight in gold.
Now, I've got that old coffee, doesn't smell too bad, and it's just a rip, squeeze, and down the hatch. Brand spanking' new!
"Hello officer, mighty fine morning isn't it?"
"Yes son, it is."
Every morning's a fine morning with Whiskey Creamer!