Saturday, June 11, 2005


Run away! Run away!


WHAM! I was roused from my deep slumber this morning at 4:19 a.m. by a very loud car crash. My first thought was a quite selfish one: "oh fuck, they hit my new car!". I raced into the living room. I peered out the blinds, only to see that Greta was fine. Then, things got odd. I immediately saw a man, about 5'10", in a white t-shirt and brownish pants, running down the opposite side of Ross Ave. I took note of his clothing for some reason. I went into the bathroom and retrieved my bathrobe. Then, I stumbled outside, where my neighbors had begun to gather. Across the street, sat a white Toyota Tundra pick-up, with its rear completely smashed. Slightly further down our street, towards Greenville, was a silver Saab hatchback, with its rear drive completely scraped, with a flat rear tire. And in my across the street neighbor's front yard, sits a white Isuzu Rodeo, front-end destroyed. Apparently, whoever hit those cars in their SUV then abandoned their vehicle to escape whatever was coming. I stayed outside until the fireturck arrived, told my lovely local firemen what I'd seen and came back inside. My adrenaline was still pumping, from the fear that it'd been my own car. I know how bratastic that sounds, but it's the truth. The Flake, Neighbor Tim and Neighbor Tim's new specialfriend slept through everything. So much excitement for the middle of the night. Sheesh!