The Jaguar looked like speed. It’s lines were clean, smooth, and sexy. Like a woman’s leg or the small of her back. You could tell it was expensive: low and wide. The fine details enhanced this impression with a piece of chrome here and a high-intensity light there. Its Hartland exhaust rumbled with pressure, power and performance. Guy Swift looked confident behind the wheel. Wearing a crisp shirt and a designer jacket with expensive shades, his close cropped hair and clean shaven face gave him a serious look. His clenched jaw finished the image.

The light turned green. Two cars crossed the intersection,  the second car sticking its tail out into traffic. The Jag rumbled a menacing growl and rolled forward 20 feet with authority and the light turned red again. Swift waited, three more cars and he could cross the intersection.