Wednesday, November 14, 2007

Houston drivers...no survivors...

Disclaimer: This is an accurate, distorted recollection of events from today. These events angered me and therefore my recollection reflects this. Also note, when I told everyone in the office about this I tried to stay as politically censured (i mean correct) and that I may not be as nice in this post, but I'll do my best. Disclaimer to the disclaimer: I may have used choice language and hand gestures during these events and therefore will try to refrain from letting them slip into this post, but no promises...

What you are about to read happened between the hours of 11:00a.m and 12:00p.m, Wednesday, November 14.

After enjoying a scrumptious International Brunch at the San Jacinto College North campus I headed back to the office to study my findings (by findings I mean photographs and by study I mean look at). I was already a little unsettled because the camera battery died in the middle of the event I was covering just minutes before departure. "But it's all good," I told myself (yea that's right it's prefectly healthy to talk to yourself, especially in stressful situations) I get to go back to the office and say "what up" to all my peeps (and by "what up" I mean talk).

So I'm driving down Wallisville (pronounced wall-is-vuhl) heading to the beltway, I've got the radio cranked with the Postal Service and everything seems to be aligning back into place again. I approach the intersection of Wallisville and Beltway 8. I click turn signal on to let others know I will be making a right hand turn. The light turns yellow upon approach so I slow. The light turns red, I stop (and I'm at the front of the line, which always makes me happy). Our light turns green again (the traffic was too heavey to make a right on red) and I make the right turn onto the feeder of the Beltway. I'm no more than 5 feet onto the road before some pleasant driver decides they're in too big of a hurry to look both ways and completely cuts me off. I SLAM! on my breaks to avoid hitting this drain to society and barely avoid hitting him (I'm talkin inches here people). But I think no problem he'll speed up because he's obviously in some HUGE hurry. The bloke proceeds to drive 10mph, that's right 10mph, down the feeder, now I've only got maybe 200 feet to cross all 3 lanes to make it to the entrance ramp so I'm trapped! Everyone is wizzing past me and I can't gain enough speed to even make the car change directions.

I glance in my side mirror and see my chance, there were about 2 car lengths between a Ford pickup and some ghetto mobile that I could sqeeze into. Just as I go to make my move, hombre cuts me off again and sqeezes into the gap with me. (now up until this point i was pissed off, but now I'm #$@%&#$%*# MAD! I was also not keeping a safe distance from this chap (I had to let him know he made a mistake and it was obvious there wasn't enough room for him to be on the road yet)) So I polietly LAY on the horn and let this gentleman understand my discontent with his actions. I glance again in the side mirror and there's no one in the far left lane, which is where I need to be inorder to make it on the freeway. Well this fella cuts e off again for the third time (fool me once shame on you, fool me twice shame on me, fool me the third time and I'm kicking your $%$^#&) So I tap (and my tap i mean drive my fist through the Mazada emblem on the stering wheel) the horn to let this guy know I'm really growing impatient. So instead of speeding up and entering the freeway, he just slams on his breaks and puts the car in PARK! (OMG Seriously can this guy get anymore annoying, I pondered as I simultaniously, almost instinctly, rolled down my window and waved my fist and one finger at him (sorry mom))

Then he answered my question. His door swings open and out steps Mr. White Trash America. (I was actually kinda proud of him because he had shoes on) And I'm just thinking to myself, "This guy can't be serious. What do I have in the car I can pummel him with. If I run over him would I go to jail. If I only would have stopped and used the rest room back at the college I would have missed this bozo. If he strikes me first, it's considered self defense, right?!??!?!"

Lucky for him, or maybe me, a Harris County Sherriff pulls up behind me (I'm assuming he had been watching from the same parking lot Al Bundy just pulled out from). When Joe Dirt sees the officer approaching he leaps in his vehicle and scurries down the feeder, the cop follows and I finally make it onto the freeway. Sadly I didn't get to see what happened between the cockroach and the exterminator but I'm sure I'll see the high speed chase (topping out at 10mph) on the 6 o'clock news tonight.

I wonder what would have happend if Deputy Dan wouldn't have shown up...