"Oh, I was real good about that. Used t'drive my friends up the wall when we-- "

Bill pauses as something clicks. A far and distant memory has been tripped and foggy details try to emerge.

Blinking a few times, Bill shifts on his chair, resting a forearm on the table and studying Raylan a bit closer.

"I was always a little obsessed with that. My mom used t'say I was set on bein' a traffic cop, way I'd fuss an' remind her about seat belts, an' turn signals, an' stuff like that."