It sounded like we were at the ocean. The horns from the trucks called out in unison with the shifting of the traffic, as the flow of traffic did not let the trucks in line move past the lights. GS exhaled sharply and decided to jump ahead the line of the cars.
Of all the cutting differences between GS and I, the one I find the most amusing is his style of driving. It’s a very boyfriend modified version and I dare not speculate how he drives on his own, but I’ve told him that to an observer it’s very much a “25 percent pleasant smiles and 75 percent fuck you” surgical style of driving. It’s like being on a roller coaster and I rather love it, yelling “Weeeeeee” and clutching the door; because if I don’t stand out for other things in Mexico, the word “Weeeee” culminates the process to a shorthand.