My bus stops at a red light. A convertible pulls up alongside. “A Saab,” I hear myself, although I know next to nothing about cars, and although I can only see a little bit of the car’s canvas top, which is up because it is raining, and a little bit of its slumped back. I prop myself up to better see the make on the back of the car. “Fucking hell!” I hear myself. It was a damned Saab. There are so many things one would rather not know anything about, were it not for one’s dumb brain.