I leave work at 3:30pm. Depending on the week, I will take a certain route to get on to the freeway home. Regardless of which route I take, more often than not, I'm a car or two behind this green truck. It's got little red happy face stickers (the kind that say "My kid is a Star at blah blah Elementary") and the license plate reads MRPOS. I always wonder if it's a name/nickname "Marpos" or if it's literally, Mr. POS. It doesn't look like a P.O.S. and trucks are usually tough and used for, well, trucking. I guess, unless it's my brother's shiny, new, lifted Tundra. Where it's all for show, with some functional value (if off-roading on a beach is a function).
He doesn't know it yet, I'm stalking him. Or maybe he's stalking me, from the front. But then so is the lady with the tanktop and cornrolls walking to work, and so is the white guy on the bicycle riding into town. Hmm, suspicious. The matrix?