So as you smugly criticize these guys in the film, I urge other viewers to try to place yourselves in their shoes, and imagine what gay life was in 1976.
Then, as I turn my head and roll down my window in preparation for the backup, I see it.
So she is in the left lane, I am in the left lane she passes him about 75-77 and I am going 70-72 when we pass by him in the middle.
The lady was almost at the sign but never slow down.
He shows no shame, no embarrassment; out of the corner of my eye, I can see that he just continues to lay there, staring at me.
The bottom 60%, including what I presume was a very unimpressive central section, was obscured by his dashboard.
For years I disliked my given name.
Casey Sanders had just arrived at his hunting stand and set down his gear when he heard a sound nearby.