Today was just an odd day. Slept in pretty late after a late night last night. Got an even later start after my upstairs neighbors decided to shut off our water to do some impromptu plumbing work. So, the day started off rocky, as I had to complain to the upstairs assholes and check with various other neighbors about possible recourse. I thought I left the worst behind me once I left my cursed building. Ha! Not so.
As Swedish Girl and I were driving along the Expressway to Target, we saw a pigeon dart into traffic from an underpass. At first, we thought it was just an overly aggressive city pigeon, but it flew lower in 60 MPH+ traffic than any other bird I’ve ever seen. Not only that, but after it passed in front of one car, it dashed back and then we lost sight of it. But only for a few moments. The car in front of us slowed down and moved quickly to its right, but to no avail. We saw the pigeon turn up under its driver’s side wheels. I’m no fan of pigeons, but to see one commit suicide was pretty sad.
We shrugged it off, in time, and enjoyed our time at Target, Old Navy, TJ Maxx, Uno’s, and DSW, only to come upon strike 2. As we were leaving the second mondo-plaza of the day (and enjoying the glow of a Celtics Game 7 victory), we were the third car in line at a dangerous intersection without lights. This is the same intersection that I was pulled over once by Officer Beardface for driving too fast right through his half-hearted and half-assed hand signals. Seargent Beardface chastised me, wagged his finger, and let me go with a warning. Fitting, since he only logs about 4.5 hours per weekend and each weekend is witness to at least one collision.
The first car ahead of us pulled into traffic, only to be greeted by a visitor (at no less than 20 MPH) into its left fender. There was a loud noise, the screaching of tires, and two plumes of smoke. I remain doubtful that Officer Beardface (about 5 years past retirement, with a bright white beard about 0.5-inch longer than I’ve ever been able to grow) would have been able to prevent this collision had he been there. Probably because he spends half his overtime shift nestled safely in the warm body of his gigantic SUV.
Anyway, I yanked my wheel to the right and passed the stunned motorist in front of me, as he/she gawked at the accident before him/her. I might have been the only one of us aware of the rotary just 500 meters ahead of us. By the time I made the rotary turn and headed back homeward, I was a few football fields away before I saw the flashing blue lights of the law (Officer Beardface, perhaps?) in place to shut down an entire two lanes of Route 1. I had beer and wine in my vehicle and was more than relieved to be just a few hundred meters from home. All in all, it was a strange day, complete with bird suicide and a completely preventable two-car collision. As I hoist this final beer of the weekend to my lips, I’ll give thanks that I made it through alive and in one piece.