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Cruising. A favourite past-time of people with nothing else to
do. Hours and hours on end, up and down the street. You begin
to wonder if cruising is their job. |
The path is set and cruisers follow it up and down Main Street,
hour after hour, day after day, turning around at each designated
corner. They cruise in their older-style Cameros or overly large
and loud trucks with one arm hanging out the window, while their
dance music is cranked up to show off their recently-purchased
sound system.
They stop at the traffic lights and rev their engines to let
the person beside them know that they want to race. The race
is on when green is seen until they reach the next intersection
when they turn around and repeat the process.
At night, people who have recently come to town see cars parked
on a business lot. They drive onto the lot, only to find out
that the business closed hours before. The lot is only being
used by cruisers parked closely to each other, three or four
in a row, talking to each other ‘till late at night, on
any empty lot they can find on their route.
What does their gas bill look like? Wasting all that gas must
cost a lot. Environmentalists should complain to the cruisers
about pollution and maybe then the street would have room for
non-cruisers.
When will they stop? Maybe when a law is announced. What a
waste of precious time and money! |
