Beat It! Beat I-aaaaggghhhh!

When I was 15 I had a job washing dishes at a supper club. I mostly worked Friday nights and would get done pretty late (in the world of a 15 year old) and would get picked up by a member of my family, it was the best when Vanilla Cocoa bean would pick me up because we would both be out past curfew! So she was 17 when I was 15, and had just bought a new car, Ford Bronco II, the coolest thing either of us had ever owned, it even came with extra tires, which were strewn about the back seat. We picked it up one Friday when we were done with school before I needed to be dropped off at work. Feeling charged with the rush of being in a new vehicle, I decided I wanted something new too. I had just begun my Michael Jackson obsession so I bought the Thriller CD from Shopko, which wasn't far from where I worked so I only got to listen to 2 songs before Vanilla dropped me off at work. Fast forward 5 hours and I am done with work, Vanilla picks me up in the sweet ass Bronco of hers and I instantly blast my Michael jams. Vanilla is letting me enjoy my moment as I sing at the top of my lungs ("they told him don't you ever come around here"), she concentrating on the road,("you wanna be tough, better do what you can so beat it") Vanilla is about to make a turn and I am about to belt out the chorus ("beat iiiiiiit!!! Just beat I-") I feel a hand grab me from behind, I look at Vanilla and both her hands are on the wheel, I turn and scream at the top of my lungs into the face that is connected to the hand that grabbed me. Once my eyes adjusted from my shock I realized fucking Desert lime Buffalo berry was hiding in the back seat amongst the spare tires. I can't hear the song "beat it" without thinking of this moment.