Saturday was another one of those days when I looked death in the face and said, "Whatever, man."
I was driving to Jen's apartment, as I do on Saturday evenings when we have nothing better to do, which is nearly every Saturday. I stopped at a light, one of those lights that has a little green arrow for those of us turning left in the left turning lane. So, you see, I was doing what I should where I should. Because I am a good driver. Yep. A very, very good and safe driver.
Another driver, the person in the right lane who still had a red light, was pulling up to the light. Pulling up without the intention of stopping. Even though he had a red light. Not stopping, I could tell. So I stayed in the lane I had no intention of staying in, the left lane. I wanted to be in the right lane. I had a turn to make, at the next light. A right turn. But I did what I had to do. I stayed in the left lane.
But, unfortunately, so did the crazy turning guy. He widened his turn, entering my driving zone and missing me by a few inches. He would have rammed me. Like in Star Trek.
I did the only thing anyone can do in those situations. I slammed the palm of my hand into the horn and held it down until I felt good and vindicated. As I did this I muttered profanity. Then I went into the lane I had wanted to be in, and I went to Jen's, walking in the door and saying, as Hurley said when he found the van and fixed it and took Charlie for a ride in it: "Sometimes you have to look Death in the face and say, "Whatever, man.'"
And for me, that was Saturday night.
[For my computer, it was moments ago, when it randomly showed me this freaky blue screen, all zoomed in. It had writing on it that said there was a critical error of some kind. I have to take it to the doctor. Best Buy, here I come.]