My Mind is a Ticker-Tape

It's something that I've said since I was a little girl- and you would think as one gets older it would get easier.
Harty-har-har.
Driving back from dropping LML off today, with no radio and no working windshield wipers, might I add (a fact that bugs me to no end) I thought about a 'car accident' i had gotten into about 9 years ago. As I was thinking about it, I figured that some people are REALLY out of their mind. Like long gone...
Picture it: New York, 2000 (did you get the little Golden Girl-ism there?)

I had just completed 3 driving courses, was 20 years old, and had passed my driving exam when I was 16. My Father had me driving from here to Astoria (bad, bad traffic area), or to Long Island (no traffic area, unless it was rush hour on the highway). I had a good friend of mine in the car. I took her home from university every day, since she didn't live that far away from me. On a road that we had always taken home, and that I'd been taking home for a year now, I wound up in the left veering lane, when I should have been in the right lane because the traffic was bad. I put my blinker on, notice that the light in front of me is red, and that there is NO ONE in the right lane. Behind me, all the traffic has stopped at THEIR RED LIGHT. I notice a very large and grotesque looking automobile at the front lines. Thank Goodness, I think to myself- that thing won't come near me, since there is traffic going by it from off the highway.
Wrong. As I move a half an inch to get out of my lane, that car flies like a bat out of hell...and scratches the side of my car. When she still should have been at the red light. When she still could have killed herself and others who were using their green light and right of way.
I was ready to pound her face into the ground.
I move over into the far right lane to park, with crazy bitch behind me. My friend begs me not to get out of the car, but I do. I go right up to her face and yell that she could have killed all of us. Then I asked her what the fuck was wrong with her car?
It was surrounded by wood.
Do you remember what those old station wagons used to look like? Here's a pic:

(photo from stationwagon.com. Please note this looks vintagey- not creepy and grotesque like this crazy woman's car was...)

This car of hers looked like Frankenstein had pieced it together from an old station wagon, and something else from the great beyond.
As I look the car up and down while I am yelling at her, I notice something else! (wait, this gets better...)
There's a cast on her right foot.

Me: Excuse me, Ma'am. I understand you have no idea how to drive, but why is there a cast on your foot?
Her: Oh, I broke it.
Me: Excuse me?
Her: I broke it.
Me: That's your driving foot.
My friend: ohmygodohmygodohmygod. MG, don't kill her.
Me: Are you aware that there's a huge white cast on your right foot.
Her: Yeah, what are you getting at?
Me: You scratched the hell out of my car! A light his hanging on by a string! You could have killed us!
Her: What do you mean a scratch?
My friend: ohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygod.
Me: You can't see the scratch right here?!?!?!
Her: Let me put my glasses on- I can't see far away.
My Mom (who finally made it to the scene): You almost kill my kids but you're not driving with you're prescription glasses on?
Her: I didn't think I needed them.
Me: I'm going to...
My Mom: Get into the car ( she says to me and everyone)

We get into the car and we're waiting for the cops. They never show.
THEY NEVER SHOW.
She didn't want to go through insurance (I wonder why) so we pretty much let it go.

3 hours later, still no cops- and we all go home. My friend is a little calmer, and I am sitting on the floor in my living room when the telephone rings...

Me: May I help you?
Angry male voice: WHAT DID YOU DO TO MY WIFE?
Me: Couldn't do anything if I wanted to, she's driving around blind and broken.
Angry male voice: WHAT?!?!
Me: Call here again, and I'll have your calls traced so fast, it'll make your head spin.
I hang up.

I call up LML. Again.
Me: Do you believe this shit?
Him: Yep.
Me: I can't
Him: I know. It's just the beginning.
Me: Dear God.

Moral of the story: If you ever see an ugly ugly car...don't move. Just stay there. Or make a left with the other people in front of you and avoid all disaster.