Alex Arato

Yes, and it was happening.

And then in a way that only Ray can turn being the perpetrator into immediately becoming the victim, when I completely lost it and pulled the car over and said, get out, Ray, looking as if I had somehow had an aneurysm, says, what?

That's what I love.

As I recall, we're heading toward Moorpark.

Yes, and heading towards where Henry's Tacos used to be and

Ray just can't understand my rage at all.

And I can't understand his complete blissful what?

Self-unawareness.

The hard part then is convincing because it is a case of convincing the 230-pound man child that he really needs to listen to the 150-ish-pound Jewish boy who is saying, you need to get out of my car right now.

I remember Ray was indignant.

He was confused as well, which I like about Ray.

We would have been able to communicate better if he had never spoken English.

Because the more I spoke, it was like that RCA dog thing, you know, where his head is tilting.

What?

And finally, I think he just thought he needed to get out of the car because I had gone insane.

But still, to this day, I guarantee you, if you hooked him up to a lie detector, he would A, confirm the story is true, and B, the needle wouldn't budge at all if you said, so did you do anything wrong?

And he would say, no.

Wow.

And that's Ray.

He pulled over.