Okay imagine that you have a stupid car that requires special Orange antifreeze instead of the regular green stuff that you can pick up anywhere. Imagine that your car is such a piece of elitist shit that if you were to put the green antifreeze in, your car would cease to run completely. Imagine that automotive superstores such as the Pep Boys and the Autozone close to your house don't carry this stuff for some ungodly reason. Imagine that only Wal-Mart sells this stupid shit. Now imagine that you live at 75 and Northwest Highway and the closest place that has a guaranteed stash (because every other Wal-Mart you've ever gone to has been mysteriously out) of the orange antifreeze is the Super Wal-Mart at 75 and Spring Creek Exp. which is 14 miles from your house. Imagine that your car has been overheating all day for no good reason at all, so instead of driving to get this orange antifreeze during the day you wait until 11:00 at night when it has considerably cooled down. Imagine that apparently this doesn't fucking matter at all. Imagine that your car overheats completely anyway at Royal, only 2 1/2 miles from your house. Imagine that, as you pull into the Albertson's parking lot off of 75, your power steering, oil pressure, and brakes decide that they don't want to work either since the radiator is getting the night off. Imagine sitting there in the parking lot for an hour while your car cools down, after which you pour a gallon of recently purchased water (which is definitely not antifreeze at all, but the only thing you have available other than green antifreeze which is available in droves at Albertson's) into your radiator tank. Now your car will drive well enough for the last 11 1/2 miles to the Wal-Mart as long as you keep the speed around 45 and the vent and the heater turned all the way up to pull some of the heat off of the engine. It also helps to ignore everyone honking and flipping you off for driving twenty miles under the speed limit. Imagine getting to Wal-Mart, finding the orange antifreeze and seeing that Wal-Mart is extorting you $6.64 a gallon, twice as much as the green antifreeze. Imagine that after purchasing all of this, filling the tank to the brim, and starting the car, the Low Coolant light doesn't turn off. Imagine that it's still on, even after driving the 14 miles home, which leads you to believe that something important is probably going to explode while you're driving to work tomorrow morning and perforate your body and your surprised face with a hundred different pieces of engine shrapnel. On top of all of this nonsense, now I can't sleep because of the epinephrine/adrenaline high that an hour-and-a-half of vehicular anger releases.