I STILL See Crazy Shit
So as if last week's bought with a suicidal umbrella shaker wasnt enough, yesterday as I drove to work I saw another crazy thing! I was sitting on the expressway, slowly making my way to our main office (staff meeting every monday morning, sacrosanct - whatever the fuck that means) when I hear this loud blast from behind me. I look in my rear view mirror to see the final moments of a hood being blown off its latch on the car behind me, followed by a plume of smoke that quickly arose from the engine. The hood slammed back shut and the smoke then billowed out from the space between the hood and the car body, and from the wheel wells. As the smoke cleared I saw a head peak out from behind the dashboard. Once he noticed everything was alright the man got out of his recently exploded vehicle, slammed the turquoise door of the 1973 Oldsmobile, and walked toward the engine with the composure of a cowboy who just finished riding a bull in a rodeo. As he mosied onward, I left the scene and continue to work unfazed.
Little did I know that this would not be the end of my story for the day, as on my way home I saw another incident, one which nearly led to the demise of a little fuzzy pooch. As I was making my way through the back roads of Chestnut Hill (one of the more upper scale neighborhoods in Philadelphia) I stopped at a stop sign to allow the other vehicles that reached the intersection before I did the opportunity to pass (as is customary in this part of town. In North Philly stop signs are optional). The car to my right went, followed by the car to my left. Finally, the mini-van that was sitting across the intersection from me made a right hand turn, however this driver didnt account for the extraordinarily high curb (honestly, this curb is about a foot high) and the mound of concrete that some dullard put next to the curb to make the curb "handicapped accessible." I used quotes there because you would need the arms of Hulk Hogan to be able to climb this mountain of a handicapped ramp in a wheel chair. Anyway, this mini-can momma drives up the mountain, scraps the bottom of her vehicle and continues to drive over the curb, finally dismounting back onto the paved street. It was finally my turn to go through the intersection and as I was pushing the gas peddle down I notice this old woman with an utterly shocked look on her face. Her arm was extended and holding a dog leash. On the end of the leash was a black, fuzzy mutt who was standing next to the curb. Apparently, mini-van momma came within inches of running this poor old dog over. Once passed the intersection I saw that the old woman wasnt moving, and for all I know she is still there now, still in shock, over the near death of her beloved lil' doggy.