Look At Me, Look At Me!

We were driving home from a restaurant built into the rocks, overlooking the sea, after a quiet dinner with friends, when we heard it. The most bone-jarring music, the kind you feel before you hear, thumping out of a line of cars. These weren't ordinary cars however, they were 'I have a very small package and therefore need to compensate by pimping up my car' kind of cars. You know the sort - huge sound system with woofers and sub-woofers installed so that the whole car moves when the music, which seems to be programmed to only play at such a volume that you'd be able to hear it a mile away. Neon lights lighting up the car like a Christmas tree. The car so low on the ground you'd be forgiven for thinking it was a Flintstone car, waiting for the driver to put his feet down, pick it up and run with it. There were a row of probably about ten of these poser-mobiles parked up near the pier, most with their doors wide open, presumably in case you had a severe hearing problem and couldn't hear the deafening music. It was so kind of them for sharing their noise with us. It made our night.