Your plan comes together

An hour crawls by as you watch. During that time two women leave the back door of the club, each of them making their way to separate cars and driving away into the night. You hum softly to yourself as you wait, telling yourself to be patient, that Lyndsey won't be much longer, and that good things come to he who waits patiently.

Another thirty minutes go by before you see the door open and Lyndsey. She's dressed in a plaid shirt and shorts that expose the length of her shapely legs, and she carries what looks like a gym bag in one hand. Her hair is tied in a loose untidy bun on top of her head. As she nears the car she presses the remote and unlocks the trunk, tossing her bag in and slamming it shut. She opens the car door and slips into the driver's seat. You watch as the car starts and the lights come on, letting her pull out of the parking lot before following her.

You know that she won't get far before the engine chokes from the blocked exhaust, and she's forced to pull to the side of the road. You smile as you see her tail lights ahead, then see them slow, the car slowly coasting to the edge of the highway. You pull over and shut your lights off, staying about a hundred yards back. After a few minutes you see Lyndsey get out of her car, looking dismayed and aiming a clumsy kick at a tire. She stands looking dismayed, looking about as if hoping for a saviour.

Smiling, you turn the key and flick on the lights, driving forward and pulling to a stop behind Lyndsey's car as she shades her eyes and stares hopefully into your headlights.