or; damn you, and the horse you rode in on.
I almost died three times yesterday in a fifteen minute period.
Seriously, my life flashed before my eyes thrice, as I saw my short 23 years coming to an end. (It wasn't that interesting and not nearly long enough, but that's a discussion for another article.)
I saw cars running amok across four lanes, cutting off, clipping bumpers, and just generally driving like asswipes. Why?
Cell phones.
The roads were very, very nice; conditions were awesome; the sun was shining, the birds were out, and the world was happy. The nasty haze that has filled the valley for so very long has finally started to clear out. I was excited for the drive home from school, because I finally felt like the world was right, and it was worth driving.
So I jumped in Rocinante, my sweet lil' Hyundai Accent (which was rocking with some of the tunes mentioned here, go read please. Yes, I'm being an attention whore. Just go read), started her up, got the cool air blowing in my face, and pulled out of the parking lot and onto the highway.
Now, I'm accustomed to Utah drivers (who by and large suck, by the way) and was expecting to see some general monkey business on the way home.
And they did not disappoint. The second I got on US-89, I was cut off by someone driving like an absolute idiot. Curious (and wanting to see if they appeared cogent, or of there were drips of drool hanging from their lips), I moved to the other lane and pulled alongside.
Typical.
The girl had a frakking cell phone strapped to her head. Surprised? Not really.
So I set out down the highway, cautiously getting forward in traffic. Not driving recklessly in the remostest, but in a bit of a hurry; I had to be at work in half an hour, and I didn't have shirtsleeves and a tie on, just a t-shirt, so I needed to hurry home and change.
And it happened again! A different ass this time, but the same malady - cellphoneitis. (Did I just invent that? Yes. Should it be an actual disease? Probably.)
Now, if it had just been the two very (read: too) close cuttings off, then I wouldn't have too much to complain about. But It happened a third time, and this time the frakking IDIOT behind the wheel, hand on cell phone, texting or checking his damn e-mail or something pointless, cuts me off, gets too close to the car behind, and slams into the back of them.
They both go spinning off into the median. I barely escaped getting clipped. (That's the time I realized my life hasn't been nearly interesting enough to die at this point.) I pulled over, asked if everyone was okay - they were. I got in my car to drive home (I know you're supposed to wait for the cops, but I needed to be to work, dammit) and saw the dude who had been texting or something was on the phone.
With the cops? Of course not. With his girlfriend or something.
Nobody was calling the cops.
I walked over and said, "hey, numbstick, you need to call the cops before your frakking girlfriend."
He looked at me like I was the numbstick.
Forget this, I thought to myself, washed my hands of the situation, and got back in my car to drive away.
Barely made it to work on time yesterday.