I just want to get back into the blogging swing, so this post will be short.
Last night we played volleyball and poker, after having played just poker the previous night. Both nights resulted in midnight sojourns to Whataburger. Before we could get to Whataburger last night, though:
"Whoa whoa whoa!"
"Holy shit!" Hooooooonnnnnnnk!
That's right. We almost got into an automobile accident, the first near-accident where I was the driver. We were driving up Mason road to get to Whataburger, and we were passing one of the many breaks in the median which let people execute left turns. A small truck came reasonably quickly into the space in the median but realized he couldn't make it before my Saturn would barrel into him, so he stopped in there. Sadly, as I was watching him and making sure he wasn't sticking out, a white Chevy Cavalier streaked out from nowhere and cut behind the stopped truck to try to turn on to my street. This prompted a whoa whoa whoa by Eric, who was riding shotgun, and I quickly slammed on the brakes while blaring my horn. Thankfully my right foot got to the brakes early enough to avoid hitting the other car by a decent margin, but my God was that a startling and frightening experience.
As it turned out, the driver of the Cavalier was most likely very drunk, as he proceeded to swerve in and out of lanes as he went ahead of us up Mason. The four of us gentlemen decided it was necessary to call the police to get that fellow removed from the road, and after some fun times with 911 and a red light, we were able to provide the dude's license plate number and his present whereabouts (Taco Bell).
Man, though. I was so angry at that guy. Drunk drivers don't sting nearly as much as when they nearly hit you (or force you to hit them, as would have been the case). Ugh.
On a happier and slightly more final note, I thought this was pretty nifty and interesting.
And that's all for today, kids. I'm off to my penultimate day at work (the ultimate one being Christmas Eve! Yay!). Peace out, watch out for drunk drivers, and hasta la byebye!
Last night we played volleyball and poker, after having played just poker the previous night. Both nights resulted in midnight sojourns to Whataburger. Before we could get to Whataburger last night, though:
"Whoa whoa whoa!"
"Holy shit!" Hooooooonnnnnnnk!
That's right. We almost got into an automobile accident, the first near-accident where I was the driver. We were driving up Mason road to get to Whataburger, and we were passing one of the many breaks in the median which let people execute left turns. A small truck came reasonably quickly into the space in the median but realized he couldn't make it before my Saturn would barrel into him, so he stopped in there. Sadly, as I was watching him and making sure he wasn't sticking out, a white Chevy Cavalier streaked out from nowhere and cut behind the stopped truck to try to turn on to my street. This prompted a whoa whoa whoa by Eric, who was riding shotgun, and I quickly slammed on the brakes while blaring my horn. Thankfully my right foot got to the brakes early enough to avoid hitting the other car by a decent margin, but my God was that a startling and frightening experience.
As it turned out, the driver of the Cavalier was most likely very drunk, as he proceeded to swerve in and out of lanes as he went ahead of us up Mason. The four of us gentlemen decided it was necessary to call the police to get that fellow removed from the road, and after some fun times with 911 and a red light, we were able to provide the dude's license plate number and his present whereabouts (Taco Bell).
Man, though. I was so angry at that guy. Drunk drivers don't sting nearly as much as when they nearly hit you (or force you to hit them, as would have been the case). Ugh.
On a happier and slightly more final note, I thought this was pretty nifty and interesting.
And that's all for today, kids. I'm off to my penultimate day at work (the ultimate one being Christmas Eve! Yay!). Peace out, watch out for drunk drivers, and hasta la byebye!
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