I was sitting in the front seat of Frank’s Cadillac Seville when he pulled out of a parking space and whipped into a u-turn without looking. We both saw the approaching headlights too late…and yeah, we got hit.

In those pre-seat belt law days, my left hand reached out to the glove compartment to brace myself and I hurt my wrist a bit. It hasn’t been the same since.

Two young guys were in the car that hit us. Frank knew he was in the wrong and handled the situation coolly until one of the kids said: “You can make a U-turn here.”

“Hey,” Frank yelled at him, “I don’t need a fuckin’ traffic cop right now.”

This shut the kids up fast.

We ended up walking home. As we approached the bridge over the Grand Central Parkway, we heard loud moans. In a parked car, some guy was on top of his girl in the front seat–with the windows wide open.

Her legs were sticking straight up and we could see his hairy ass humping away.

That unexpected sight got me thinking about something I saw when I was working for Thrifty Rent-a-Car. I was my way back from bringing customers to the airport, crossing over the Grand Central Parkway on a small two-lane trestle. Cars lined up on one side going north; cars lined up next to them going south, all waiting for the light to change.

As I sat there in the maroon station wagon that passed for Thrifty’s customer shuttle bus, I glanced over at the car to my left and was taken aback when there wasn’t anyone in the driver’s seat.

Sitting with his head lying back against the passenger side headrest was a skinny black guy, maybe 40-45. He looked uncomfortable, his facial expression seemed to display something approaching pain. I did a double take just as the driver re-appeared.

She was an overweight Latina, pretty with long hair, and she immediately busted me gawking. Her eyes twinkled as she watched me register the reality that she had just given the skinny black guy a blowjob while waiting for the light to change

Her face flush from her efforts, she laughed out loud and-to my everlasting astonishment-opened her mouth to show me that her passenger had indeed achieved orgasm.

“Yeah, I got it all,” she chanted as she wiped her chin. The skinny black guy smiled the way only a man in that situation can smile. The light turned green and they were gone.

The guy in the car behind me honked loudly.

Early one summer Sunday morning as I was walking to the gym, I had an all-time great accidental voyeur moment. I heard a cry of passion, the unmistakable sound of a female in the throes of pre-orgasmic pleasure. I looked around, zeroed in on a first floor window, and peered in to see a moaning Asian woman, maybe twenty-four with dyed pink hair. She was riding atop an unseen sex partner.

The streets were Sunday-morning empty. Confident I was alone, I lingered to watch a bit. Our Ms. Pink was naked with her back to the window on a slight angle, enough to see some of her profile and her full breasts bouncing up and down. Her body glistened with a light film of perspiration, the sun streaming in through the blinds to create shiny stripes across her torso.

The image stays with you.