In 2002, my friend Patrick threw a glass ashtray at me in a bar in Boston. "Berzerkowitz!" he barked, celebrating the successful hit right in the middle of my forehead. That's how he said hi. The next morning, once he sobered up, and my face still hurt like a sonofabitch, we went for a ride in the car he rented for the weekend. "It's the most generic car I have ever driven," Pat told me from the driver's seat of a Hyundai XG350L. |
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