Rolling in the Benz
Lazy Sundays, a hallmark of everybody's college career. A chance to sit in your bed, watch TV, and psyche yourself up for homework and the prospect of another week of class. I was enjoying myself immensely, eating sunflower seeds, watching The Waterboy, and napping. I had set myself up for a nice, quiet afternoon, just doing my thing.
There I am, lying in my bed, half awake, when who should come pounding into my room but ol' Garrett. Garrett spent the weekend at OU visiting his purported girlfriend, and I was elated that he had made it back alive, and bearing news that OU wasn't nearly as much fun on a weekend as UD. Garrett had borrowed his fathers car for the weekend, and he decreed that we were to go on an adventure. Where, I'm not exactly sure, but we assembled a crew made up of Garrett, Steve, Martha, and I.
Heading out into the parking lot, a beautiful sight greeted me, in the form of Garrett’s 1988 Mercedes. It was a gorgeous ride, cream colored, a fine testament to German engineering. We purr off campus, looking like royalty as we slid through the Ghetto.
We were rocking down Edwin C. Moses Drive blasting some sweet Carole King, passing the arena, when we drove past an accident on the other side of the road. We kept going, and then had to stop quickly to avoid hitting a car that had stopped far back from the light. We barely stop, and then it came. BAM! We jerked forward, getting a real life lesson in Newtonian physics. My leg banged up against the dashboard, and we all had our necks whipped around a bit. Apparently, we had been in an accident.
By a stroke of luck, at the other accident, there were about four police cars, so I give top marks to the Dayton PD for response time. They took all of our information, made sure we were buckled up and that none of us were hurt. Just your basic accident scene.
The only thing that was really BS about the whole thing was the ticket that they gave to Garrett. The cops claimed there was no car in front of us, apparently they didn’t have the quickest reaction times. But we got a court date later this month, and I figure if I whip out the Perry Mason routine, we should be alright. I'm a regular William Jennings Bryan, it’s gonna be epic.
But we are all safe and alive, and so are the stupid girls in the other car, so I guess that's a good thing. It certainly made for an interesting Sunday.
Oct 2, 2005 10:59 PM
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