Tam has a post up about the delights of driving in Indianapolis, which sounds almost as delightful as driving in Miami:
One thing that’s always baffled me is the profusion of exotic automobiles you’ll see in downtown Indy of a weekend evening. The streets around the circle are almost crowded with exotic German, American, British, and Italian cars. Why anybody would take a stiffly-sprung, low-slung sports car with low-profile tires and a manual transmission and go drive it through that cratered hellhole of traffic lights and one-way streets at parking lot speeds for fun is completely beyond me.
Yes, almost like Miami, except for the Spanish.
Her remark does remind me of the definition of frustration once given by a co-worker of mine.
A Lamberghini driving through a school speed zone.
