it was only the day before he had been driving his friends tuned up , vintage camaro two blocks away from the mall , blasting away the riffs of mean street , hanging his arm out the door , pinching a red marlboro between his fingers , beaming from behind sunglasses that had nothing to do with sports or rat-race competition , with the fresh contours of his second tattoo hanging out from under his sleeve , and his friends two hot sisters in the backseat , whom he had to drop off somewhere , who could n't care less about him , who wouldve enjoyed his company , had they known him better and listened to his take on the world , because he could be original about almost anything , and get straight to the point with short remarks like , hell , the governments mortgaged your brains ! , without the fancy gibberish picked up at downtown wi-fi hotspots , and who the hell cared .