Tom is traveling by car in Spain with his wife; he has a dicey cell-phone call with his unhappy and unpleasant boss. Back on the road, his wife complains at length, then the car runs out of petrol. He grabs two-liter plastic bottles and stomps down the road in search of gasoline. At the service station, everyone from the owners to their son to a passing dog seems to share Tom's foul mood. Then someone has a heart attack. Tom, walking back to his car, burdened by a dog and bottles now filled with petrol, hears his mobile ring. It's his boss: is it time to share his mood?
—<jhailey@hotmail.com>