Cloyce fears cars

Years ago I knew this guy: I'll call him Cloyce just to give him a name. He seemed like a good guy, though he spoke in broken English with an accent I never could place. We would see each other occasionally at neighborhood meetings and such.

Somehow or other it came out that he walked everywhere he went. I didn't think much of it: the guy could do what he wanted on that count, right? But one night after a meeting we found it was raining rather hard. Remembering his habit, I offered Cloyce a ride home in my car.

A look of complete horror flew into his eyes. "No, no, no," he protested. "Cars bad, cars crash, people die. No, no no." But the he realized the situation and said, "You're nice man. Nice to offer ride. But no. Cars bad, bad, bad." He walked on home into the storm.

All I can think is, he must have had one bad experience with cars. Either that, or he'd heard about my driving.

Hah. I beat every one of you to that punchline, didn't I?