Hello, Hello Everybody!

Ok, yesterday, I'm on my way to work, normal to only slightly high speed when, after taking a curve and facing a red light about 20 feet ahead, I, as usual, gently hit the brakes. My car, as unusual, gently doesn't give a fuck and keeps going.

(Remember how when your brakes fuck up because of wet or greasy pavement you must by no means keep hitting those brakes?, well that's what you do, step on the bastards, no matter what you know you must)

Now here's the three most nasty seconds of my day so far, when you have a big old car in front of you, and no matter how you turn that wheel or hit those brakes, you're heading right into it.

Pam!

I wasn't going fast. I wasn't wearing a seatbelt and I didn't even move. My hood did move, backwards. And one light, and other crap. The transmission oil thing broke, and all the oil filled the land (more on that soon). The other car got pushed 20 feet ahead. Now comes the fun part.

I didn't say snakes on a plane, but it was a small plane, and you could hear the hissing.

A woman steps out of her car, 45-50, ugly, angry and nervous. She starts yelling at me from far away about how I'm a maniac and she's sick and her daughter and how she's gonna fuck me up. I'm real nervous (just an amateur car crasher, and far from a fan) and I start telling her over and over how I'm sorry and I'll take care of everything and it's my fault and crap.

I turn on the emergency lights (my car is in the middle of the street crying transmission oil at morning near to peak hour), and go to a grassy sidewalk with angry ugly woman to calm her down and figure out what the fuck to do.

Transit Authority shows up (not Chicago's, that would be weird 'cause I dont live there). Too early they did, almost as if they were hiding in the bushes. They already hate me, little irresponsibl prick speeding irresponsibly and hitting the poor lady and her 25 year old daughter. I call my best work buddies and tell them to come over. I feel a sting in my nec, another in my arm. I realize I'm standing next to thetransit guy with about 40 red ants all over me. I start talking nervously while slapping my face my neck my arms and all over my body. The guy even uses his hat to take some off my back at my request. The goddamn grassy sidewalk. This day just gets better. Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuun!

Another car gets screwed up with the pavement exactly where I did and hits the sidewalk. A cop in a motorcycle passes by and lands on his ignorant corrupt ass after passing over my car's tears. People across the street yell and laugh at him. That at least was cool. When my friends come to my aid they too get tire failure due to fucked up pavement and hit another car. Now what the fuck? Are we being filmed? Am I punk'd? I'm not famous.

Anyway to make it short and since I can't write it as interesting as it was, friend knows corrupt transit guy, corrupt transit guy leaves me alone, ugly angry woman apologizes and leaves, we get a tow truck, I have to spend a fat load of sweet moolah on the hood the light and the other crap, everyone's happy to be alive and well without a scratch (chicks may dig scars, but I dig the hell out of not getting any), I gotta go to the transit offices now to pick up the crash info for the insurance (for angry mad woman, I dont have insurance, yay!), and I learned a valuable lesson:

Crashing my car sucks.