Cars and People: Pissing at 60 Miles an Hour

Car guys scratch and sniff at their posts. They turn around throughout the month and try to get that last up out the door and down the street. They burn out and burn up and die trying to get someone to burn gas. It's the way it's happened for years and the way it will always be. One day it's the middle of the month and everybody is working to make their paycheck and the next day it's over.On the last day your pulse shakes while you look at the chalkboard counting units sold. Eyes comparing worth and worthiness and wide eyed wondering when they'll get some rest. The night fucks you like you're standing against a streetlamp. One minute you're off and the next you're all lit up and shining on the hood of a strangers' car with a thong around your ears. One minute it's the last day of the month and you need to sell one more car and the next minute it's midnight, December fucking first, and that's all. It's over. It rolls around on the ground like a cat masturbating. It rolls around on the ground looking inviting until it scratches you. It rolls around in the sunlight of morning, licking its end.