American Exigencies, American Paradoxes (or: To Yell “Woo!” into Night Skies)

A young and, preferably, unemployed man must own a large truck without anything to haul in it, and the pipes to yell “Woo!” at elevated volume, at nothing at all. The truck, if it is to be used, is to be left growling in its baritone register in a parking lot, near a gas station at which gasoline runs four dollars a gallon.

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