Latino in an old Chevy miniBlazer pulls up next to me at a light. Has his radio turned up. Trying to look tough listening to bad rap.
I turned my radio up to full. Opened the window. He got to listen to the traffic report.
11/21/2006
MuMu BeepBeep
There's a four way travel, three way stop intersection in the parking lot of Albertson's. Incoming traffic doesn't have to stop - probably helps avoid them piling up cars into the traffic lanes of Boulder Highway.
Anyway, I was driving straight and had just stopped at the stop sign. Started going and halfway through the intersection a lady for whom the Ford Escort she was driving appeared to be little more than a mumu tried to blow through the intersection without stopping.
Whatever, I keep going. She slams to a halt.
So then I'm in the right lane of the left turn lanes on Boulder when this mountain of a woman pulls up next to me with her window rolled down and screams at me for cutting her off. *sigh* Stop sign means stop, people.
Anyway, I was driving straight and had just stopped at the stop sign. Started going and halfway through the intersection a lady for whom the Ford Escort she was driving appeared to be little more than a mumu tried to blow through the intersection without stopping.
Whatever, I keep going. She slams to a halt.
So then I'm in the right lane of the left turn lanes on Boulder when this mountain of a woman pulls up next to me with her window rolled down and screams at me for cutting her off. *sigh* Stop sign means stop, people.
7/12/2006
Whoah, Big Penis You Have
My GF's family was in town (15 Puerto Ricans), and we piled into three cars to get up to the Fourth of July fireworks show in Anthem.
She was in the first car, I was in the second. We were on Pyle, headed eastbound and stopped at the light on Maryland. Next to my GF was a blinged out BMW. Custom rims, tires, no lincense plate, etc.
The light turned green and the BMW peeled out and took off. Okay, we figured he was just being a jackass, but whatever, no harm done.
We trained up to Spencer... At that intersection we saw a hopped up BMW that'd hit two other cars. Bounced off an SUV and them slammed into a sedan.
No one looked seriously injured, so we kept on our way. The general sentiment was that we would not have mourned the death of the BMW driver.
The moral: peeling out isn't bad. A quick race up to speed isn't really bad. But once you get up to the speed limit, make sure to stop gaining speed. And for heaven's sake: watch the heck out for things you may hit. We don't care if you die, but please don't kill someone innocent.
She was in the first car, I was in the second. We were on Pyle, headed eastbound and stopped at the light on Maryland. Next to my GF was a blinged out BMW. Custom rims, tires, no lincense plate, etc.
The light turned green and the BMW peeled out and took off. Okay, we figured he was just being a jackass, but whatever, no harm done.
We trained up to Spencer... At that intersection we saw a hopped up BMW that'd hit two other cars. Bounced off an SUV and them slammed into a sedan.
No one looked seriously injured, so we kept on our way. The general sentiment was that we would not have mourned the death of the BMW driver.
The moral: peeling out isn't bad. A quick race up to speed isn't really bad. But once you get up to the speed limit, make sure to stop gaining speed. And for heaven's sake: watch the heck out for things you may hit. We don't care if you die, but please don't kill someone innocent.
Drunky Morning
I came up behind a generic white sedan sitting at the red light waiting to turn onto the airport connector from Russell. The light turned green. Cars in front of him started to go. He didn't. So I honked, assuming he's distracted by a cell phone or some such.
After the left turn onto the connector, he weaved around a bit and darn near ricocheted off the retaining wall. I backed off a bit to give him room - clearly distracted.
Once we get into the tunnel he careened across the right lane and bounced off the wall of the tunnel. Oh... Okay... He wasn't distracted, he was drunk. Lots of people honked at him and flashed their lights. Eventually he kind of motored onto 215. That was the last I saw of him.
Drunk enough at 7:00 AM on a weekday that he ran his car off a wall, damaged it, and just kept going. He'll probably be pissed when he sobers up.
After the left turn onto the connector, he weaved around a bit and darn near ricocheted off the retaining wall. I backed off a bit to give him room - clearly distracted.
Once we get into the tunnel he careened across the right lane and bounced off the wall of the tunnel. Oh... Okay... He wasn't distracted, he was drunk. Lots of people honked at him and flashed their lights. Eventually he kind of motored onto 215. That was the last I saw of him.
Drunk enough at 7:00 AM on a weekday that he ran his car off a wall, damaged it, and just kept going. He'll probably be pissed when he sobers up.
6/01/2006
Redneck Bar
As I passed by the local redneck bar tonight I saw a couple of squad cars. And a paddy wagon. Good one, guys.
Oh, and if it's 11:30 at night and you see a lot of taxis headed east on Trop past Boulder Highway, they probably aren't going to the stadium.
Oh, and if it's 11:30 at night and you see a lot of taxis headed east on Trop past Boulder Highway, they probably aren't going to the stadium.
5/31/2006
Dentist
Went to the dentist today for a routine cleaning.
The hygenist doing my teeth asked a question or two. I talked about my recent accident.
She got into an accident at the same intersection.
Today when I drove home I passed by there and saw broken glass and sand. The signs that an accident happened that day.
It's a bad intersection. Avoid it if you can.
The hygenist doing my teeth asked a question or two. I talked about my recent accident.
She got into an accident at the same intersection.
Today when I drove home I passed by there and saw broken glass and sand. The signs that an accident happened that day.
It's a bad intersection. Avoid it if you can.
5/27/2006
"We've Got A Runner!"
West bound on Tropicana near Eastern. A car and a truck involved in some kind of generically stupid rear end issue. No visible damage.
Then I see someone on foot running down the road towards the stoplight. The light is red. He stops to take down a license plate number and talk to the driver. I assume that's the car that started it.
Then I see someone on foot running down the road towards the stoplight. The light is red. He stops to take down a license plate number and talk to the driver. I assume that's the car that started it.
The Wind Howls
I look at the temperature gauge in my truck. It's 83F outside. It's also half past midnight. The harshest summer isn't here yet, but the winds are. The wind howls with an other-worldly fury.
East on Pyle a motorcycle weaves through traffic and slams on its brakes directly in front of me. He gets a close look at my grill as he takes a right into a housing development. Too bad my reflexes are faster than my irritation - I almost had a new hood ornament.
Driving north on Spencer I catch the tail end of a green onto St. Rose. I push the transmission down from third into second while accelerating. Push hard on the gas and jerk the wheel left. Suddenly I'm in a nice drift. Turn the wheel right and keep pushing. The truck straightens and I'm in the middle lane of St. Rose. Third gear. Fourth. Fifth. And ease into sixth.
I get onto 215 West, headed for 95. Traffic is light, I'm averaging about 85. I'd do more, but I'm already fighting the gusting wind pretty hard. The grated concrete road surface doesn't help. I probably look a little drunk. So be it.
Onto 95 North. Again traffic is light. Let my foot off the gas and coast onto the Russell Road exit. I pass by an accident - it looks minor, everyone appears okay. Keep going...
Right onto Russell. As I'm about up to the intersection where I had my last accident the single oncoming car begins flashing its high beams. Why? Police speed trap? Accident? Boredom. Paranoia jabs me in the kidneys for the next mile. But it's nothing. Boredom.
Left onto Boulder Highway. I'm in the left lane. Someone in the middle lane wants into my lane. He doesn't have room ahead of me. So he slows to get behind me. I turn into the left turn lane for Tropicana and he passes by, still in the middle lane. Maybe it's a She. On an outcall. That would explain the confusion. Prostitutes are not known for their navigational skills.
I get onto Tropicana, then turn into the Albertson's parking lot. It's almost 1:00 AM on a Saturday morning. This should be fun.
Pass by the goth sitting on the corner looking very angsty. I remember being fifteen. I'm not feeling pity.
I get my waffles, Red Bull, and Power Bars (tomorrow's breakfast). I pass by the group wandering around in a meth daze. They don't seem to be holding any food, but they're wandering intently. Nothing I want to get involved in.
There's a stoner trying to get a store employee to help him find a particular flavor of ice cream. He can't remember the name of it. Or the brand. Marijuana rots the brain, kids.
At the checkstand just paying for some items is a john, with his hooker in tow. Yes, it's that obvious.
Behind them is the kid with the fake ID buying alcohol. That's obvious too. But it's just believable enough that the clerk lets him by. He's got plausible denyability.
I pay for my food and head for the exit door. At the Coin Star machine is what looks like a younger, slightly gothier version of Penn and Teller. It's deinifetly time for some sleep.
I get home, the cats are fine. The dog, however, has killed a mouse. Good dingo, I say, as I toss it in the trash. At least one of the animals earns its food.
East on Pyle a motorcycle weaves through traffic and slams on its brakes directly in front of me. He gets a close look at my grill as he takes a right into a housing development. Too bad my reflexes are faster than my irritation - I almost had a new hood ornament.
Driving north on Spencer I catch the tail end of a green onto St. Rose. I push the transmission down from third into second while accelerating. Push hard on the gas and jerk the wheel left. Suddenly I'm in a nice drift. Turn the wheel right and keep pushing. The truck straightens and I'm in the middle lane of St. Rose. Third gear. Fourth. Fifth. And ease into sixth.
I get onto 215 West, headed for 95. Traffic is light, I'm averaging about 85. I'd do more, but I'm already fighting the gusting wind pretty hard. The grated concrete road surface doesn't help. I probably look a little drunk. So be it.
Onto 95 North. Again traffic is light. Let my foot off the gas and coast onto the Russell Road exit. I pass by an accident - it looks minor, everyone appears okay. Keep going...
Right onto Russell. As I'm about up to the intersection where I had my last accident the single oncoming car begins flashing its high beams. Why? Police speed trap? Accident? Boredom. Paranoia jabs me in the kidneys for the next mile. But it's nothing. Boredom.
Left onto Boulder Highway. I'm in the left lane. Someone in the middle lane wants into my lane. He doesn't have room ahead of me. So he slows to get behind me. I turn into the left turn lane for Tropicana and he passes by, still in the middle lane. Maybe it's a She. On an outcall. That would explain the confusion. Prostitutes are not known for their navigational skills.
I get onto Tropicana, then turn into the Albertson's parking lot. It's almost 1:00 AM on a Saturday morning. This should be fun.
Pass by the goth sitting on the corner looking very angsty. I remember being fifteen. I'm not feeling pity.
I get my waffles, Red Bull, and Power Bars (tomorrow's breakfast). I pass by the group wandering around in a meth daze. They don't seem to be holding any food, but they're wandering intently. Nothing I want to get involved in.
There's a stoner trying to get a store employee to help him find a particular flavor of ice cream. He can't remember the name of it. Or the brand. Marijuana rots the brain, kids.
At the checkstand just paying for some items is a john, with his hooker in tow. Yes, it's that obvious.
Behind them is the kid with the fake ID buying alcohol. That's obvious too. But it's just believable enough that the clerk lets him by. He's got plausible denyability.
I pay for my food and head for the exit door. At the Coin Star machine is what looks like a younger, slightly gothier version of Penn and Teller. It's deinifetly time for some sleep.
I get home, the cats are fine. The dog, however, has killed a mouse. Good dingo, I say, as I toss it in the trash. At least one of the animals earns its food.
5/18/2006
A Little Rudeness Goes A Long Way
Walking across a parking lot near work an old guy honked at us and yelled at us to find a sidewalk. My theory was that he was in a hurry since he didn't have much time left. Then he parked in a handycapped spot without a handycapped tag. Oh, I get it... Old guy is just an ass.
Fatty... ATTACK!
I'm driving west on Tropicana, east of Boulder highway, just entering the school zone. I'm doing about 45, which is the speed limit since school wasn't in yet. Walking across the crosswalk a few hundred feet down is a woman.
So I start slowing, figuring I'll stop about 20 feet short to avoid making her nervous. When I'm still over 100 feet away and already slowed significantly she starts signalling me to slow down and making angry faces at me.
WTF? I hadn't done anything wrong.
So of course my reaction is going to be to coast up close to her and then stop hard. If you're going to assume I'm doing something wrong if I'm not, then I might as well.
So I start slowing, figuring I'll stop about 20 feet short to avoid making her nervous. When I'm still over 100 feet away and already slowed significantly she starts signalling me to slow down and making angry faces at me.
WTF? I hadn't done anything wrong.
So of course my reaction is going to be to coast up close to her and then stop hard. If you're going to assume I'm doing something wrong if I'm not, then I might as well.
5/16/2006
Waffle House
A line from a song sums up the Albertson's near me:
I love waffle house, I stab people there
their so shitty and dumpy they don't even care
Don't try to guess the song, you'll embarrass me.
I love waffle house, I stab people there
their so shitty and dumpy they don't even care
Don't try to guess the song, you'll embarrass me.
Lanes Down
Collisions everywhere.
Tropicana, Russell, Warm Springs. It's been a hectic couple of days.
Tropicana, Russell, Warm Springs. It's been a hectic couple of days.
College Woops
Looked like a low-speed head on collision on Maryland near UNLV. In front of In-N-Out, actually. Prolly stoned.
5/04/2006
The Biker And The Homie
Guy on a motorcycle was about to take a right turn off of Warm Springs into a residential development. Some Mexican El Homeo in a coffee can Honda rode up loudly behind him and got between him and the right hand curb.
The biker reached back and flipped off El Homeo. And started screaming at him. El Homeo simply sat there, hunkered down, and looked confused. He just didn't get it.
The biker reached back and flipped off El Homeo. And started screaming at him. El Homeo simply sat there, hunkered down, and looked confused. He just didn't get it.
4/26/2006
Senseless
Driving is an activity that really should be experienced with all of your senses. All of them.
The first sense is vision. You have to be able to see ahead of you. Good depth perception is important. You must be able to judge the distance between you and anything ahead of you. Peripheral vision is good - dangers can come in from the side, and it's good to be able to sense how close you are to someone next to you without turning your head.
The second sense is balance. You need to be able to sense changes in speed and direction without necessarily having other inputs. Practice... With your eyes closed: is the elevator going up or down, which way is the dentist's chair moving, can you keep your balance on the BART?
The third sense is feeling. Sense the feedback from the steering wheel. Is the vehicle trying to pull you in a direction? Can you feel the vibration from the tires at a certain speed? Understand that, it'll help you know how fast you're going without looking at the speedometer. Can you feel when the engine is bouncing off the rev limiter? That tells you to shift.
The fourth sense is sound. My tires make a certain noise when they slide to the side a bit. THey make a more intense noise when they really break loose on a corner. There's a certain squeal and thump noise when they break loose due to torque. The engine tells me when it's over 2500 RPM with a low growl. I know it's over 4000 when I hear the growl turn into a whine. Understand what the noises your car makes are telling you. Know the sound of a fire truck versus a police car - they're very different, and you need to know how to respond quickly without looking.
The fifth sense is smell. Memorize the smell of your vehicle. If it smells different, something is wrong. Be able to tell the difference between that and the smell of a bus passing by.
The sixth sense is taste. A metallic taste in your mouth? That means you did something that changed the chemical balance in your brain. You probably almost died. Avoid that.
Learn how to process all of this information into an almost instinctual response that keeps you out of trouble.
And then realize that sometimes shit just happens and you're gonna get fucked. Airbags are a lifesaver.
The first sense is vision. You have to be able to see ahead of you. Good depth perception is important. You must be able to judge the distance between you and anything ahead of you. Peripheral vision is good - dangers can come in from the side, and it's good to be able to sense how close you are to someone next to you without turning your head.
The second sense is balance. You need to be able to sense changes in speed and direction without necessarily having other inputs. Practice... With your eyes closed: is the elevator going up or down, which way is the dentist's chair moving, can you keep your balance on the BART?
The third sense is feeling. Sense the feedback from the steering wheel. Is the vehicle trying to pull you in a direction? Can you feel the vibration from the tires at a certain speed? Understand that, it'll help you know how fast you're going without looking at the speedometer. Can you feel when the engine is bouncing off the rev limiter? That tells you to shift.
The fourth sense is sound. My tires make a certain noise when they slide to the side a bit. THey make a more intense noise when they really break loose on a corner. There's a certain squeal and thump noise when they break loose due to torque. The engine tells me when it's over 2500 RPM with a low growl. I know it's over 4000 when I hear the growl turn into a whine. Understand what the noises your car makes are telling you. Know the sound of a fire truck versus a police car - they're very different, and you need to know how to respond quickly without looking.
The fifth sense is smell. Memorize the smell of your vehicle. If it smells different, something is wrong. Be able to tell the difference between that and the smell of a bus passing by.
The sixth sense is taste. A metallic taste in your mouth? That means you did something that changed the chemical balance in your brain. You probably almost died. Avoid that.
Learn how to process all of this information into an almost instinctual response that keeps you out of trouble.
And then realize that sometimes shit just happens and you're gonna get fucked. Airbags are a lifesaver.
Fat Guy in a Z3
When a fat guy buys a Z3, he's pretty much admitting a lack of personal responsibility, but still wants to get laid. Now, while the lack of personal responsibility is kind of disappointing, the upside of this kind of person is that they tend to be very bad at overcoming their monkey brains.
So I'm in line to turn right onto Russell from the airport connector. I leave a car length open ahead of me specifically to lure in jackasses. A fat guy in a Z3 decides to skip the line and wedge in ahead of me. I happen to have the truck in 1st gear, and respond by slamming the throttle and jumping around him, then aiming at his front fender.
The man's monkey brain kicks in and he squeals and scampers up into a tree - meaning he swerved to the left and slammed on his brakes. Monkey brain fear hurt.
So he falls into line behind me and has about 45 seconds to think about the situation. It doesn't take too long for his monkey brain to realize that he just got beat up and won't get the best monkey-nookie partner. So he responds by running higher up the tree and flinging feces at me. Meaning once he gets to the stop sign, he slams his car into gear and roars around me.
That wasn't really something I cared about - I proved my point and won the pissing contest. It was over by the time he got enough balls together to scream at me.
Anyway, due to construction I pulled a u-turn at the next light and turned north onto Maryland (where the Z3 guy had turned left). As I turned onto the street I noticed that he had spun out and broken his car. I probably should've felt sorry for him. But I'm an ass - so I didn't.
So I'm in line to turn right onto Russell from the airport connector. I leave a car length open ahead of me specifically to lure in jackasses. A fat guy in a Z3 decides to skip the line and wedge in ahead of me. I happen to have the truck in 1st gear, and respond by slamming the throttle and jumping around him, then aiming at his front fender.
The man's monkey brain kicks in and he squeals and scampers up into a tree - meaning he swerved to the left and slammed on his brakes. Monkey brain fear hurt.
So he falls into line behind me and has about 45 seconds to think about the situation. It doesn't take too long for his monkey brain to realize that he just got beat up and won't get the best monkey-nookie partner. So he responds by running higher up the tree and flinging feces at me. Meaning once he gets to the stop sign, he slams his car into gear and roars around me.
That wasn't really something I cared about - I proved my point and won the pissing contest. It was over by the time he got enough balls together to scream at me.
Anyway, due to construction I pulled a u-turn at the next light and turned north onto Maryland (where the Z3 guy had turned left). As I turned onto the street I noticed that he had spun out and broken his car. I probably should've felt sorry for him. But I'm an ass - so I didn't.
Odd Happenings
Maryland and Tropicana - got to watch a guy in a car try to pick up a hooker. Only she wasn't a hooker (just a trashy looking college student). She wasn't too happy about the mistake.
Later, on Tropicana I looked at the car next to me at a traffic light and noticed he was someone seriously into the punk scene. Spiked hair with 5 inch spikes. The hairdo for punks that think the mohawk is overdone. Trouble is, he was about 50, and had some serious male pattern baldness setting in. So it was kind of a spiked ridge around the top of his head. Very comical.
Then, at the Albertson's, a stoned woman ran into my shopping cart. Bounced off, looked startled, and wandered away. I'm glad I don't live in Summerlin, life would be so much more boring.
Later, on Tropicana I looked at the car next to me at a traffic light and noticed he was someone seriously into the punk scene. Spiked hair with 5 inch spikes. The hairdo for punks that think the mohawk is overdone. Trouble is, he was about 50, and had some serious male pattern baldness setting in. So it was kind of a spiked ridge around the top of his head. Very comical.
Then, at the Albertson's, a stoned woman ran into my shopping cart. Bounced off, looked startled, and wandered away. I'm glad I don't live in Summerlin, life would be so much more boring.
4/25/2006
Something Deadly
Someone almost made a fatal mistake yesterday on my way home.
Eastbound in the right lane on Warm Springs, just before 95. I was doing about 45 when somebody started to pull out onto Warm Springs. Just in front of me. THankfully he stopped and I swerved.
Then about half a mile later traffic was goobered up because someone else hadn't stopped.
Eastbound in the right lane on Warm Springs, just before 95. I was doing about 45 when somebody started to pull out onto Warm Springs. Just in front of me. THankfully he stopped and I swerved.
Then about half a mile later traffic was goobered up because someone else hadn't stopped.
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