Once upon a time, over 20 years ago, I worked
in this hellhole. Saturdays were the worst. One particular Saturday a guy pulls in, fills up his red Cadillac (I even remember the car), and while cashing out asks how to get back to Interstate 85.
"Go back to the street, take a right, drive half a mile, and you'll see the signs." I had told these same words to probably thousands of people in the three years I wasted there.
"No, you don't go right," he said back to me sharply. "You take a left."
"Uhhh, no sir, you take a right and it'll put you right back on 85. I live out here; I wouldn't lie to you."
"No, you go
left."
I sighed. I was over it. "Okay, go left then." He exited the store and returned to his car. "Terri," I said to my coworker. "Watch and wait."
We saw the red Cadillac take a left on US-1. We continued ringing up customers, but kept our eyes on the front windows. Surely enough, 10 or 15 minutes later we see a red Cadillac zooming past like a bat out of hell, heading to our right... towards the interstate.