Driving home at 2:30am (a little drunk, a little stoned) on a warm summer morning with the windows down and the college radio station pumping out French hiphop it's easy to feel all is right with the world.
I am not allowed to feel all is right with the world.
Suddenly I'm blinded from behind by those horrible bluedeath headlights. (You know the kind; when they're heading toward you they make the back of your eyes cramp up. When they come up behind you it feels like you're in that pickup that gets stuck on the tracks in 'Close Encounters').
I am not allowed to feel all is right with the world.
Suddenly I'm blinded from behind by those horrible bluedeath headlights. (You know the kind; when they're heading toward you they make the back of your eyes cramp up. When they come up behind you it feels like you're in that pickup that gets stuck on the tracks in 'Close Encounters').
And then I'm being tailgated by the asshole with the 'needles-of-death' headlights.
Now I need to let you know I hate tailgaters. There's very few people & very few actions I hate (truly hate) more than tailgaters.
Until recently in Washington the law was fairly straight forward; in a rear-end accident the car following is at fault. The idea being; if you were following at a safe distance you could have avoided hitting the car in front of you. I used this to my advantage on many occasions.
The most 'famous' being a certain Ms. Crager. She tried to cut me off, even though I had the right-of-way & was already in the intersection. Since she couldn't cut in front of me she decided to tailgate for the next couple of blocks. I slammed on my brakes hard enough she had no chance of avoiding the accident, slamming in to the back of my (piece of shit) car hard enough to push me forward a few feet. Pulling out, feigning an interest in pulling over & exchanging pertinent (though non-existent on my part (thank you Photoshop!)) car insurance information, I led her to the next gas station, then cut through the nearest light as it changed to red.
Went to the liquor store, drove home. When Julie & I got out and checked my rear bumper for damage we found somebody else's license plate stuck in it. Pealing it off it turned out to be a 'vanity plate', with the name MS CRAGR.
Ha! Princess not only fucked up the front of her car, she lost her vanity plate she had to pay extra for!
To this day it hangs on my wall as a 'trophy of war':
Now I need to let you know I hate tailgaters. There's very few people & very few actions I hate (truly hate) more than tailgaters.
Until recently in Washington the law was fairly straight forward; in a rear-end accident the car following is at fault. The idea being; if you were following at a safe distance you could have avoided hitting the car in front of you. I used this to my advantage on many occasions.
The most 'famous' being a certain Ms. Crager. She tried to cut me off, even though I had the right-of-way & was already in the intersection. Since she couldn't cut in front of me she decided to tailgate for the next couple of blocks. I slammed on my brakes hard enough she had no chance of avoiding the accident, slamming in to the back of my (piece of shit) car hard enough to push me forward a few feet. Pulling out, feigning an interest in pulling over & exchanging pertinent (though non-existent on my part (thank you Photoshop!)) car insurance information, I led her to the next gas station, then cut through the nearest light as it changed to red.
Went to the liquor store, drove home. When Julie & I got out and checked my rear bumper for damage we found somebody else's license plate stuck in it. Pealing it off it turned out to be a 'vanity plate', with the name MS CRAGR.
Ha! Princess not only fucked up the front of her car, she lost her vanity plate she had to pay extra for!
To this day it hangs on my wall as a 'trophy of war':
Where were we? Oh yeah: 2:30am — drunk & stoned — French hiphop — tailgater.
Before I have a chance to get worked up, the tailgater hits his highbeams, filling my little RX7 with whiteblue disorientation. It's so blinding I can't clearly see the road ahead of me and am forced to follow the white line in the lower right of frame. Very safe.
And then the whole world turns into Spencer's Gifts (and yes I had my camera ready, I do that sometimes when I don't have a weapon with me):
Turns out the rave going on behind me was in reality a Seattle cop, who suddenly decided tailgating me on a back-road at 2:30 in the morning wasn't enough sport, he needed to find a spot with a little more action. He fired up his lightbar & shot past me into the night.
Thanks Seattle police; nothing says 'Preventing crime, enforcing laws, supporting public safety' like tailgating with highbeams on at 2:30am.
Oh, and that last photo perfectly expresses the state of my mind at the instant that cop hit his party lights.
This I don't need....
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment