Feeling in a distinctly blue mood I moved my tongue to the other side of my mouth and shoved on my tooth radio. I rolled the tongue over the bottom of the tooth until I got a program with some blues music. Just the way I felt. The blues. I sat in the front seat of my Thunderflash and listened to the music echoing against my tonsils. After the song came the inevitable commercial. Only this was a new one. The announcer said: "Here's some big, big, big news from Grinning Gregory, your largest volume dealer in lifetime cars. Gregory announced today that his used people lots are nearly empty. Yes, Grinning Gregory's used people lots are nearly empty. And that means good, good, good news for you car owners with lifetime contracts who would like new cars. "Grinning Gregory has added to his stocks of new Orions, Thunderflashes, Galaxies, Solars, Charioteers, Protons and Fords. For the first time in two years, yes, the first time in two years, he has more new cars than new people to sell them to. "So he is offering a limited number of them to used people, you folks who have had cars, on his conveniently located used people lots. Come on down and let some of Grinning Gregory's new cars look you over. Be sure and bring photostats of your credit ratings and official car histories. Hurry, hurry, hurry and avoid the rush to Grinning Gregory's used people lots." The commercial ended and was replaced by music. Gosh, that was exciting news. Ever since the accident I had given up hope of ever owning a decent running car again, automobile prices and government restrictions being what they were. I clicked on my tooth telephone and ached my garage mechanic to come by and pick up my car. Then I took my credit rating and official car history from the glove compartment and caught a helibus to the nearest of Grinning Gregory's used people lots. * * * * * A lot of guys were already there before me, most of them in the same fix I was. They had been in accidents or they were divorced and their wives got custody of the car, although they still had to pay for it. Some of them had been on the lot for some time and looked a little shopworn under the lights and fluttering pennants, but they hadn't found a car yet that would take them. We were all classified as used people, a lot less desirable than people who hadn't signed for cars yet. One of Grinning Gregory's contract brokers lined us up in a row facing the path the cars would come by robot direction. The fellow to my right slicked his hair down neatly and began shining his shoe-tops on the backs of his trouser legs. "Sure hope I get selected," he whispered nervously to me. "Boy, don't you sometimes wish you were living a couple of hundred years ago when cars were cheap enough so that people were doing the picking?" "Not me," I told him. "Drive that junk? I'll admit you didn't have to swear but a couple of years of your life away. But look at all you get now in a car."