Our automobiles no longer need tall chrome masts to receive and intercept radio signals for our audio enjoyment. For one thing, terrestrial radio is a dying media, and for another technology has marched on to provide similar signals with hidden or dramatically reduced antennae.
From an aesthetic point of view, this is good. Progress moves us all foward and cars can sometimes look better without these large protuberances. Cars without antennas are better looking cars. Maybe.
But in the ever-evolving aesthetic war automakers are forced to wage, one thing has been completely forgotten. You no longer have an impromptu way to save yourself from getting your ass beaten in a parking lot brawl. And that’s a damn shame.
I’m writing this from the patio table of an In-n-Out burger joint, and there are dozens of cars in the parking lot. Not a damn one of them has a 31-inch makeshift weapon I can brandish if I were hassled by scofflaws. To where should I turn? I suppose they say the pen is mightier than the sword. Perhaps they’ll be subdued if I shout appropriately flowery prose at them.
It’s not often that you can gain real world experience through a short tale long after its relevance has been rendered oboslete. I don’t think I’ll find an appropriate whip antenna to use in this day and age. That homemade “napalm” however...
Anyway, for providing this genuinely awesome short story, I’m awarding benlama1 with the prestigious COTD trophy for the day. What do you say about that? Huh? Come at me!