After a while I was pretty sure I lost him. I threw the thing in reverse, yanked the wheel to one side and attempted to slide backwards nonchalantly into an alleyway, the one he told me to meet him in. I accomplished the mission objective with little to no difficulty-- Okay, so I'm fairly certain I knocked over a couple of trash cans with the back end, but I haven't got anything better to do than buff out scratches on this stupid Camero anyway.
The alley was really tight, and I was really glad I wasn't driving the piece of shit van I learned to drive in. I had to crush myself up against the wall went I got out, shutting the door really carefully to prevent any other scratches. I scrunched my way down the alley, almost free of the lung-crushing prison between the car and the wall. Along the way, I saw how much space was on the other side and I silently cursed to myself. When I was finally halfway down the alley at the dented metal door about to knock, the fingers on my right hand went to my mouth like a reflex, and I realized there wasn't a cigarette in my hand. I gulped nervously and shot back to the car on the other side, fishing around in my backseat living shit through the window. While I'm back there, I hear the door open and slam forcefully; just by the footsteps I already know who it is.
"Are you going to move this piece of junk over? I'm driving."