So, the other day, yours bloggingly was cruising in the Arnica-Mobile when he drove over some debris on the road. High on the list of what Arnica steam-rolled was some cassette tapes. The cassettes had been run over a time or two before Arnica got there, so the tape was already unwound,unraveled and uncontained. After the collision o' cassettes, a large amount of cassette tape ribbon type stuff was somehow now attached to the Arnica's love-ride (later discovered to be attached to the outside rear-view mirror). A quick view from the inside rear-view mirror revealed a long billowing stream of brown ribbon trailing behind. There must have been four car lengths of cassette tape flying in the breeze.
[cutting to chase] It didn't take long for a car to speed up behind Arnica—as they often do since Arnica keeps his speed to a safe and sane 48 miles per hour on our nations death-ways. As the car got closer to Arnica, the tape started to dance in the driver's windshield for a few seconds. Then, the car slowed down and maintained a five car-length distance behind Arnica's lovebug. This tickled Arnica to no end and he did what most assholes do when presented with an opportunity to be an asshole—he slowed down enough so that the streaming cassette ribbon was once again dancing on the car's wind shield. Now Arnica was at least a few hundred feet in-front of the car behind him, so Arnica was pretty sure that the driver did not suspect Arnica with any hanky-my-spanky. But he/she/it was soooo wrong.
Once that driver finally changed lanes, Arnica waited for another victim. This went on for a while until Arnica realized where he was, how fast he was going and many lives he had put into danger's way. At that point, Arnica opened his window, liberated the tape, felt like dumb-arse, sobbed quietly behind the wheel, blew it off, and drove on.