Hirpasms

Friday night Mrs. Hirp and I went to dinner with some friends, good times, yet uneventful. Then on the way home, I look in my rear view mirror ( I do that from time to time) and I see these headlights coming up on us in the passing lane. Now, these headlights weren’t just moving, they were hauling ass. When they passed us, we felt the car shake from the wind (I’m sure there’s a scientific name for it, but I don’t know it). And then suddenly there was another car, which I didn’t even see coming, that flew by us too, and the car shook again. We both commented on how we’d like to see them either “end up as spots on the highway,” or simply just, “crash.”

Seconds later we saw tail lights going in directions that were well, less than consistent than you’d expect from a car going down a straight path of highway and dust flew, and then we came on the scene. And low and behold, those little teenage shits wrecked. We’re not sure what happened, but based on the damage we could see, it appeared that the Acura had some how spun around, and in doing so made contact with the drivers side door of the Mustang. The Mustang was off to the left of the highway, and the Acura was on the shoulder on the right hand side of the highway. There was another vehicle, a mini-van of all things, parked in front of the Acura. And there were kids everywhere. Not in the, bodies littering the side of the highway like Keystone cans, but gathered like they do in front of McDonalds. No one seemed upset, no one appeared hurt, in fact they didn’t seem to even give a shit. Seriously, these punks were lucky to be alive, and they most upset kid looked like their phone dropped a call.

Our first reaction was amazement, amazed they weren’t affected. We were amazed that we sort of asked for this to happen, and amazed that these shits had such nice cars. We pulled over, called the po-po’s, and waited and observed everything. Then we decided there wasn’t really a reason for us to sit there any longer, and we drove off. It took seconds, maybe, and then we began to think about the fact that our six year-old was 10 years away tops, from being in cars with idiots like the one’s we just saw. And panic set in. Sympathy for the parents of those morons was next; those poor saps were just getting the most terrifying phone calls of their lives.

10 years, that’s how long I have to convince this girl not to date and that using a bicycle is the best way to get around. Wish me luck.

***

I really need to start buying Powerball tickets. We keep talking about what we’d do if we win, but that probably won’t happen if we don’t buy a ticket. And I don’t see any other way for me to come into money, unless I jerk-off onto a $20 bill.

Yesterday at lunch, a waitress at Longbranch lost the diamond from her wedding ring. Not known for their service, we were treated to watching the entire staff perform a Fugitive-worthy hunt for this rock. I just hope they washed their hands after crawling around on less-than sterile floors.

I’m a little nervous; tomorrow I have to present some team builder ideas to my director and her managers. My public speaking skills are more than lacking. To speak like President Bush would be an upgrade, although I’d like to refrain from making a stupid face anytime I think I make a point. So tonight I won’t sleep, and I’ll get up there slur my words like Mel Gibson at a sobriety check point. Bad times.

By the way, this is post #401. That's the scary stat of the day.