22 views
Road Rage
I was driving home late Saturday night with my lovely wife, after having dinner together at Yin Ho Chinese restaurant. I had one hand on the steering wheel, and the other hand on her thigh.
"I can't wait to get home baby."
"Me too, baby." I said, "Play some Rihanna and have a glass of white zinfandel."
"You're speaking my language."
I moved my hand slowly, up and down her leg. I couldn't look at her facial expressions, since I'm driving the highway, but I could tell that she had her eyes closed...enjoying every moment of it.
Suddenly, as we drove 55 MPH, a large truck hit the back bumper of our car, pushing our vehicle forward. My wife and I thrashed our heads forward. "What the Hell!"
I looked in my rear view mirror and saw a rusty truck. The truck was double the size of our car; we could hear the engine through our windows, it sounded like a motorcycle, but chugged deeper and hungrier. I stomped on the gas pedal, feeling the jolt of our Honda rush forward. "What the shit."
"Who was that?"
"I don't know." I said, wiping my brow, "Do you know?"
"No idea. I saw a bald dude. I don't know any bald dudes. None. You?"
"Ha. My high school principal. But no way that's him. He drives a red Corvette. Always thought he looked stupid wearing sunglasses and a suit to work."
"Is he still back there?"
"Shit," I said, "He's gaining on us!"
I didn't know what to do. I had enough gas to reach Thomasville, but I don't want to go that far. That would be ridiculous, that's an eight hour drive.
"Try to hit that corner fast," said my wife, pointing ahead with an outstretched arm.
I stomped the gas, and right before the exit, I slammed the break, and turned right onto the exit.
I watched behind us as the truck tried to make the corner. However, it flipped over. It didn't just roll once and land nice and friendly. It rolled like a car on NASCAR after reaching high speeds, flipping and turning, metal stripping, bumpers falling, and tires deflating, bending.
"Oh my...," said my wife with her head turned toward the crash, "did you see that?"
"I saw that."
"Let's get home ASAP."
"I can't wait to get home baby."
"Me too, baby." I said, "Play some Rihanna and have a glass of white zinfandel."
"You're speaking my language."
I moved my hand slowly, up and down her leg. I couldn't look at her facial expressions, since I'm driving the highway, but I could tell that she had her eyes closed...enjoying every moment of it.
Suddenly, as we drove 55 MPH, a large truck hit the back bumper of our car, pushing our vehicle forward. My wife and I thrashed our heads forward. "What the Hell!"
I looked in my rear view mirror and saw a rusty truck. The truck was double the size of our car; we could hear the engine through our windows, it sounded like a motorcycle, but chugged deeper and hungrier. I stomped on the gas pedal, feeling the jolt of our Honda rush forward. "What the shit."
"Who was that?"
"I don't know." I said, wiping my brow, "Do you know?"
"No idea. I saw a bald dude. I don't know any bald dudes. None. You?"
"Ha. My high school principal. But no way that's him. He drives a red Corvette. Always thought he looked stupid wearing sunglasses and a suit to work."
"Is he still back there?"
"Shit," I said, "He's gaining on us!"
I didn't know what to do. I had enough gas to reach Thomasville, but I don't want to go that far. That would be ridiculous, that's an eight hour drive.
"Try to hit that corner fast," said my wife, pointing ahead with an outstretched arm.
I stomped the gas, and right before the exit, I slammed the break, and turned right onto the exit.
I watched behind us as the truck tried to make the corner. However, it flipped over. It didn't just roll once and land nice and friendly. It rolled like a car on NASCAR after reaching high speeds, flipping and turning, metal stripping, bumpers falling, and tires deflating, bending.
"Oh my...," said my wife with her head turned toward the crash, "did you see that?"
"I saw that."
"Let's get home ASAP."
