This morning as I walked the cold, rainy seven blocks to my office from my max stop, I passed a man fumbling with his keys, a paper lunch bag and a cell phone - all of which he propped up on top of his car. As I passed, I heard this terrible noise - a woman, seemingly calling for help - I looked around frantically, expecting to see someone hurt, on fire, fleeing for her life from Godzilla or zombies or ... god knows what, I tell you, it sounded awful. It took me a second, and then I turned around and realized this guy was reaching for his phone on his car. The sound? It was his cell phone ring - and it wasn't a woman in fear for her life, it was a woman in the throes of passion. Could have been directly recorded off some hideous 70's porno. I am still sitting here trying to decide whether to be amused, sickened, furious or confused.