So one day I’m driving to the food store with my dog. I thought this would be a simple trip, but nothing is simple in my life. I’m getting off the highway going neck and neck with another car. I drive a five speed BMW so if I want to pass you, your passed. However when my dog was alive I took him every where because I always drive safer with my dog in the car. Since my first BMW was hung off a cliff upside down. I decided to slow down a tad. So I let this car in front of me and we take the exit together. We cruise for two hundred yards meet the main street and come to a stop light. We both are in the left turning lane at a red light me right behind him. The light turns green I follow the car through the light and SMASH. The car feet in front of me is slammed on the drivers side by a crazy woman driving a huge pick up truck. Red means stop ladies. The old Oldsmobile I was following was carried as a hood ornament by this pickup for a hundred feet clear out of the intersection. I stop my car in shock still in the left turning lane and I look in the rear view mirror to see my dogs eyes looking at me as I have never seen. We talked telepathically and Arnold said to me these exact words. “Fuck this…I didn’t know these metal boxes can hit each other. This is a fucking death trap… Next time you go for a ride don’t take me.” I agreed that cars are death traps and that I preferred boats, but I had to stop myself from going on about boats as I will because I was reminded of the human hood ornament that has just entered my world. I still have the green light and a few cars are behind me everyone going what the fuck simultaneously.
Quick decision… Park the car where is. I’m in a turning lane with cars all around me so my dog is safe. Get the fuck over to the guy in the Oldsmobile his car is smoking. Good plan self and I’m off. My tunnel vision is active and I close in on the smoking car oblivious to the world. Unknown to me, until it nearly makes me a hood ornament, another pickup skims my nose (not literally but damn it was close, I’m talking inches) as it drives through the intersection with full intent of driving by the hurt guy hanging out of his smoking car barely conscious. American fail. The light had turned green for the other lanes and not only did this driver not help me they damn near ran my scrawny ass over because they had somewhere really really important to go. I hope it was to die or at least get a vasectomy. I turn to my left, still standing in the middle of the intersection. My eyes on fire with rage by my fellow man and the next car coming stops as if I was Cyclops without my shades. He gave me a look of sorry dude I will stay right here. You do what ever you want. Another telepathic conversation over, my attention returns to the wounded man. As I run by the pick up of course the woman is perfectly fine just shaking in shock probably worried this guy under her truck is dead. America I’m from a 256 acre cattle farm. I had a 87 Jeep Cherokee that never let me down for five year of farm life. What the fuck do you need these huge trucks for? I get to the Oldsmobile and take in the situation. Smoking car. Gas leaking from both cars. Why is this shit always happening to me. Drivers side of car wrecked. I go around to the passenger side and of course the doors are locked windows up. I return to the drivers side to see the driver is kind of conscious, grabbing his head and moaning with some blood but not to much. His door is buckled in and I figure I may be able to wrench it open and pull him out faster then breaking the window on the passengers side and try to worm him through the whole car. I put a foot on the car pull my ass off and nothing. Damn my small genetics. Suddenly another set of hands is next to me, I look up. It’s an old man with that kind face only the greatest old man posses. We both tug with all our might and nothing. Damn my small genetics, and his old ass. Simultaneously we both look up and see we are surrounded by people just watching. Not running for cover in case it blows, not calling the cops, and sure as shit not coming to help. Just watching from a distance like I have seen so many cows do as they watch there buddies go onto the truck. Me and the old man scan the crowd expecting someone to come and help us. In this crowd of almost 50 to a hundred people they all just watched. Plenty of fit men a hell of a lot larger then me and younger then this old man in the blast zone with me. Me and the old man finish our scan of the crowd and lock eyes. A moment of shame in our fellow man yet pride in ourselves. We didn’t have to say it, we weren’t leaving this guy. We both grab that door and ripped the mother fucker open.
Help each other America. You can still drink, smoke, and have tons of sex. Wear condoms. But Gentleman always help.
Looks like next week is book week. Last meeting on Monday. Don’t worry I will keep blogging for you. This blog is a great way to do rough drafts and I love all your comments. They help me make my writing more entertaining for you guys. Thanks again all six thousand of you beautiful disciples, and every one save up 12 bucks for my book. God Willing for sale by Friday. Topped out at 41,000 words for your reading pleasure.