My young fare got in the cab looking a bit glum and carrying a very expensive looking stereo. "Have you taken the stereo out of your car for safe-keeping?" I asked. He shook his head sadly and replied “no this is all that I've got left of my car” He went on to tell me the story of his “pride and joy, babe magnet" losing it's attraction to the road and ending up crashing into a wall. He was unhurt apart from loss of dignity, and I was impressed that he was man enough to admit that it was his own fault for speeding. He had only had the car for a matter of weeks, and like a jilted lover selling the engagement ring he was going to sell the stereo to another "joy boy" to rid himself of the reminder of his lost love. Just like a cowboy with no horse or a Shepard with no sheep theirs something kinda sad about a boy racer with no wheels.