January Morning

"Grabber."
"What?"
"Grabber. My name is Grabber."
"Oh. My name is Jan. Thanks for the ride."
"No prob, Bob...ah, no prob, Jan. Hey, I thought Jan was a girl's name."
"It's either. Mine's short for January."
"January? Jeez, I'd go with Jan, too."
'Where'd you get a name like Grabber?"
"I'm into Grabbers. This here car is a Grabber."
"I thought it was a Maverick."
"Yeah, it is. A Maverick Grabber. It's a special edition. Came with a V8 and cool colors and stripes and stuff. I've rebuilt 3 of'em, but this one's the best. It's a keeper. Check this out."
At this point, Grabber stomps the gas pedal and my head snaps back. In the dark of the night, on this lonely highway, I feel as if I'm flying.
"Hey! Hold onto the wheel!" I say, as he shifts gears - somehow frantically, yet smoothly.
"A man's only got one arm. Hey, you've got 2!"
I hadn't noticed, but my driver is missing his left arm.
"Yeah," I say, "it's a birth defect. I was born with 2. I'm a freak. It hasn't been an easy life..."
He takes this good-naturedly, giving me a look of comic suspicion. I decide to ask.
"So, how did you lose your arm?"
"Wellll, I got really drunk one night and went home with some chick I'd just met. I guess I pooched her and passed out. I woke up early the next morning and looked around to see where I was and...here was this big, fat, ugly chick, asleep, with her big, fat, ugly head on my arm. So, instead of waking her up, I opted to gnaw my arm off and split the scene. You know what I mean?"
Here, he gives me the biggest shit eating grin.
Varoooooooom. Into the night.