I pulled up to a stopsign in Costa Mesa (Tustin & 17th) with my window open yesterday. It was near the end of the workday at the quick lube place, and the workers were kinda blowing off steam, yelling at each other good-naturedly. One guy looked about sixty and worn and sunburned in a kind of Okie way. He was looking into the office and suddenly he yelled out, in the most gravelly whisky-soaked Marlboro-burnt voice I've ever heard:
WILL YA GET OFF THE HORN FINALLY SAM? YOU'RE LIKE A GODDAMN BROAD!
I didn't think anyone still alive spoke like that. Is he in 1936?