More car anecdotes

We here at freestyle blogging are dedicated to bringing only the finest, ripest, and most ridiculous stories of Robert John Falconer's life. Indeed, the challenge is not in the finding, it's in the sifting, as there are just so many ridiculous occurrences to choose from.

Today, for instance, I was driving along in my car as I sometimes do. Like in my previous story, it is very significant to this event that it was snowing. Scene:

The visibility is poor. The snow is less to blame than my completely ineffective windshield wipers, whose utter failure at wiping and propensity towards loud squeaking present a windshield wiping sin so foul that it would no doubt receive the death penalty if tried by a jury of it's peers.

It is late morning, and I am rushing to drop something off at a friend's house. Of the last twenty-four hours, I spent eight of them studying for a test that I am taking right after dropping this off. I also got about six hours sleep in the process. As a result, i'm more than a little crazy-eyed.

With visibility as it is, I see the street i'm looking for just a fraction delayed, and, without thinking, enter the turn. Ordinarily this would be about as remarkable as the autonomic process of blinking (which is to say, not very) as I am going all twenty-five miles an hour. Except, at this point, we should all recall with a gasp that it is, and has been, snowing.

My car (never being the type of automobile that dabbles in critical thought) obliges with my command and swings itself into the turn. Then, it keeps swinging. I end up completely sideways with my back tires up on the curb. Remarkably, I have hit nothing, and so I calmly turn and drive off.

Now, this street I just turned off of was a major thoroughfare, and I know that multiple people just saw me spin my car a complete ninety degrees. Just down the street is my friend's house, and so it is only a matter of some feet before I park. As I am getting ready to get out, I see out of the corner of my eyes a van pull up.

The driver waits until our eyes meet. He is an older gentlemen. I can see the dignified crinkles outlining his world-weary eyes. Once eye contact has been firmly established, he shakes his head back and forth. Crisply. A total of four times, all while mouthing the word "no" in the strongest tones of disapproval i've ever seen anyone mouth anything. Shoot, I didn't even know a tone could be mouthed.

I then proceed to die of laughter, content that the event had been stamped, sealed, and perfectly concluded.