Driver's Log 12/11/14, Evening, Dundalk: I'm stuck behind a black Lamborghini that is limping its way down Dundalk Ave. Yes, a Lamborghini: black, shiny, and as sinister as Darth Vader's helmet; yes, in Dundalk. Why is there a Lamborghini in Dundalk? Did a someone hit the lottery? Did a drug dealer buy themselves an early Christmas present? I'm going to guess neither of the above. The car is probably a rental, likely here because someone opened a restaurant and was trying to draw in patrons with it.

I usually avoid driving in Dundalk if I can, which is easy as fares in or out of the suburbs are rare. The reason I avoid the area is the condition of the streets, not the quality of the clientele. The city and county seem to take a "go fuck yourself, Hon" approach to actually completing roadwork there. The major arteries are a mess and the streets where Dundalk meets Highlandtown will literally ruin your car. The first time I drove my Passat there I fell into a pothole so deep that my passengers screamed because it sounded like the front axle had exploded. There are more than a handful of streets that my wife's Miata can't actually navigate with its low ground clearance.

The hyper-car with 2cm ground clearance is limping down the center of the two lane avenue at about 10mph, using both lanes. Normally I'd be annoyed but the spectacle is just too much. I imagine the driver sweating bullets; slowly navigating steal plates and exposed manholes, praying that the i95 onramp is closer than the GPS indicates. "If only it was the Imperial Shuttle it appears to be, it could just fly away and get back into hyperspace, rather than navigate this asteroid belt."

I see an opening. I shift my Volkswagen into sport mode, redline the engine, and overtake the Lamborghini. —That bit is for Volkswagen's marketing department.