Someone Is Watching Us

"Do you believe in Satan?" asked the kid in back.
"Not really."
"That's what that guy asked me. 'Do you believe in Satan?' I said I believed in God... and then... my phone disappeared! My phone disappeared out of my pocket. Now, a week later, my phone is missing again! Exactly a week later!"
At this time we were at 165th and Division. There was a gas station, some fast food places, and a giant shopping center. I didn't see any houses, but I was going to drop this guy off immediately.
"Where do you want to be dropped off?" The phone rang again, and the kid in back went totally still.
"Shh. Shh," he said. "Answer it."

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Slurring Body Language

The absolute worst part about dealing with drunks -- other than the smell of perspired alcohol and the constant fear that someone's gonna puke in my car (I have to take my kids to school in the morning, man) -- is that they are completely unpredictable. They are so hard to read -- it’s like alcohol slurs their body language. You could be having a totally chill conversation, where everyone's happy, and then everything suddenly goes sideways.

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