Dates with Disaster

It may very well be due to the changing of the seasons, but my road experiences have been rather treacherous as of late. Two weeks ago I was nearly t-boned while crossing an intersection by two little old ladies, both of whom failed to notice that the light was still green for me. Hey, whatever, no hard feelings. It’s not everyday I get to contemplate becoming the victim of a car accident. A trip to the hospital, a visit with Death maybe…I couldn’t really imagine what else could happen after Death. PAIN? Gruesome, indiscriminate pain?

This week, a public transit bus tore a path into my lane. At first I thought this man must not be looking because, if he did, he would see that the bus was moving too close to my car for comfort. But, a careful examination of the driver revealed that he was indeed aware of my presence. He just seemed to have better things to do than care about driving safely. Last time it was just another vehicle, this time it’s a bus. What’s next? Ford F-150? MAC truck? Caterpillar? Exposed power line? Drive-by? Baby stroller??

What – have – I – gone – done – wrong?!

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3 responses to “Dates with Disaster

  1. You drive a car that you seem to believe is reasonably threatened by a baby stroller.

  2. Yes, my flimsy car will crumple upon contact with a baby stroller, for it is made of chocolate with caramel inside. It was a mistake to drive such a foolish vehicle!

    “Percy, hit the brake!”

    Percy’s quick reflexes sent his foot into the brake pedal. The vehicle lurched forward as the brakes engaged, jarring the passengers within. Percy’s seat belt, unable to hold back its charge, crumbled into countless sweet pieces. His body slammed into the Jolly Rancher steering wheel, resulting in three broken ribs, four cavities, and a new found hatred for the watermelon flavor. Later, passersby would describe the car accident as rather odd.

    A series of staccato like snaps were heard as the vehicle began to collapse upon itself. Jets of warm caramel spewed forth from the hood, while jawbreakers spilled forth from the headlamps. A child, in awe of the abortive spectacle which was a cocoa vehicle, left his baby stroller unattended. Sadly, with its brakes disarmed, the stroller helplessly began to roll down the mild slope which led towards the driver’s side door.

    “Oh God,” it thought.

    Thump.

    The door’s crash beams, weakened by the warm sun, warped around the stroller’s clean frame.

    Gasping for breath, Percy then asked, “what did we stop for?”

    “A red light?”

    “I hate you.”

  3. Haha, ah Percy, that’s brilliant!

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