Friday morning's beef necks...

I leave for work pretty early (3:30-ish). Most mornings, the only people I see walking from the house to the parking garage are the concierge in my building and the guard in the parking garage. Friday morning, I walked out of the building and there- stopped at the light out front- was on of those mobile home sized SUVs with a dozen or so beef necks crammed in, clown car style.
Normally, this is something I’d just ignore, and walk around them. On this fine Friday morning, though, one of the beef necks leaned drunkenly (this is a pre-requisite for beef neckedness) out the window and shouts “Hey, dude- any bars still open?” (You have to imagine this said with an accent akin to the Ned Beatty-raping hillbillies in “Deliverance” saying “them panties, too” to get the full idea of how annoying this was. Also, it was at a volume that would guarantee everyone on the Peachtree side of the building would hear the question.)
Not wanting to encourage further discussion (beef necks are an anathema to me), I merely shook my head to indicate a negative. This didn’t really satisfy the spokes-neck, though. He leaned further out the window and bellowed “NO?” I answer quietly, “no” as the light turned green and the pilot beef did his best to squeal the tires (Hint: this doesn’t work in most SUVs) and they headed off- doubtless to pick up a DUI somewhere or Drunk and Disorderly at the Waffle House in Underground)…