Rok, here's a funny story that wasn't at all funny at the time. I wanted to hear some Tibetan music, and there was a festival going on at the art museum in Forest Park that night. I couldn't get the wife to go, so I had to go by myself; it was halfway across the city of St. Louis.
I was just cruising along with some good music in the tape deck, when I noticed that I had been behind the same car for quite awhile. He turned left at the next street, I turned left at the next street. The first thought that came to my mind was "I sure hope he's not one of those paranoid dope dealers".
We both went about 5 miles down this street with me behind him, he turned right, and I breathed a sigh of relief, because I kept straight. The next corner I made a right, and a quick left, only to wind up behind the same car, but now we are going into this huge black dark park, and me and him are the only two souls in the park; that's when giant beads of sweat began to form on my forehead.
These guys shoot first, talk and think later; every time I made a turn in this inky dark park to avoid being behind this guy, he would accidentally make the wrong turn apparently trying to avoid me, and I would still wind up behind him. By now, I'm scared stiff, and hoping he doesn't stop, jump out and start spraying me, and I don't mean with insect repellent. Fortunately, he was as scared as I was, and he floored his car to get out of the park on the next straightaway.
It was all real funny after that, but it certainly wasn't a few minutes before. (that was life in the city a long time ago)