The place my father worked was in an industrial park where several buildings shared a drive and parking area. One evening as he was leaving, he saw a car, traveling much too fast, come careening around the corner of a building into the parking lot and then to a screeching stop. The driver jumped out of the car and began running toward one of the buildings.
My dad yelled, "Hey, what'd'ya think this is, a race track?" and the guy stopped running and walked the rest of the way.
And people say I'm too literal.
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