explained sternly. "I clearly recall having this argument last summer . . .sir." "Thirteen my ass!" the redneck cried. He spun around and hollered, "Becky get your ass over here." I saw the girl in the red dress hop up from her seat and run over toward us. "Tell this ass-wipe how old you are." "Thirteen, sir," little Becky replied. She looked over at me briefly. She seemed embarrassed, so I turned around and pretended to examine the big map. "Fuck!" the redneck hollered. I