I was driving home from work the other day, just one two-ton killing machine amidst hundreds of others, when a large maroon Thing quickly jerked halfway into the lane I was in (just inches in front of me), drifted slowly back where it came from, and then painstakingly reasserted itself into my lane. It then proceeded to do a slow imitation of the ball in the game "Pong." Circumstances being what they were, I wasn't immediately able to get away from this psychopath, and found myself trapped behind Maroon Death for several miles.
Being fascinated as I am with The Mad, I was trying to get a good view of the driver while jockeying to get away. Was it a crazed stunt driver out for revenge in his death-proof car? A hooded spectre of doom on the way to their next reaping? Someone on a cell phone? I had to know. There's something very intriguing to me about the facial expressions of people on subtle rampages.
At the next red light, the car came to a jerking halt about fifteen feet behind the line painted on the road that says "stop here on red." I didn't understand this behavior until the cars on the other side of the intersection got a green arrow indicating they could turn left, across our path. When those cars started to go, the Demon Car jerked forward with a start and nearly plowed into one of the turning cars, stopping in the middle of the intersection when, ostensibly, the error was realized. If the car hadn't started its charge fifteen feet earlier than most, it probably would have actually hit someone. So maybe the driver knew what they were doing. On some level.
In any case, as the car waited in the middle of the intersection, turning cars swerving around it, I was able to get a view of the driver in their rear view mirror. Old woman, probably about 80. She had an intense glare that seemed to accuse the rest of the world for the indignity she had to suffer in the middle of the intersection. Didn't seem worried about impending sideswipes in the slightest.
Here's the thing, though. She had a vanity license plate. Any guesses?
"PRAY NOW"
No lie. I, for one, would not want to see this particular plate across from me at the intersection. Or approaching rapidly from behind. Or chasing me down the sidewalk.
So I think I'm going to give up driving. It's just too dangerous. Maybe I'll pick it up again in forty or fifty years.
Being fascinated as I am with The Mad, I was trying to get a good view of the driver while jockeying to get away. Was it a crazed stunt driver out for revenge in his death-proof car? A hooded spectre of doom on the way to their next reaping? Someone on a cell phone? I had to know. There's something very intriguing to me about the facial expressions of people on subtle rampages.
At the next red light, the car came to a jerking halt about fifteen feet behind the line painted on the road that says "stop here on red." I didn't understand this behavior until the cars on the other side of the intersection got a green arrow indicating they could turn left, across our path. When those cars started to go, the Demon Car jerked forward with a start and nearly plowed into one of the turning cars, stopping in the middle of the intersection when, ostensibly, the error was realized. If the car hadn't started its charge fifteen feet earlier than most, it probably would have actually hit someone. So maybe the driver knew what they were doing. On some level.
In any case, as the car waited in the middle of the intersection, turning cars swerving around it, I was able to get a view of the driver in their rear view mirror. Old woman, probably about 80. She had an intense glare that seemed to accuse the rest of the world for the indignity she had to suffer in the middle of the intersection. Didn't seem worried about impending sideswipes in the slightest.
Here's the thing, though. She had a vanity license plate. Any guesses?
"PRAY NOW"
No lie. I, for one, would not want to see this particular plate across from me at the intersection. Or approaching rapidly from behind. Or chasing me down the sidewalk.
So I think I'm going to give up driving. It's just too dangerous. Maybe I'll pick it up again in forty or fifty years.
Dang, I told grandma to stop doing that.
Posted by: Enna Isilee | April 26, 2007 at 04:37 PM
Lol. You always have the best comments, Enna Isilee
Posted by: Celes | April 27, 2007 at 08:18 PM
Do you think that if the first person who invented the very first automobile had somehow managed to have this very accurate view of the future, they would have just said "What was I thinking? Never-mind?"
Posted by: Stubby LaRue | April 30, 2007 at 10:10 AM