I think your wine bottle demon is vacationing out on my route. Today, about a mile down the road from the dessicated dog-on-the-tracks, the demon tried to get me! me! me!
The trucks we drive have a large blind spot to the left, that becomes a problem when you check for on-coming traffic. It is a clever design that combines the door frame and two large mirrors, to generate a penumbra in which you can hide a large SUV. I, of course, know that this blind spot exists, and compensate for it by shifting around in my seat to make sure nothing is hiding behind those mirrors.
This afternoon after making my last delivery, I pulled up to the stop sign at the highway, and looking to the left I saw a completely vacant road. I glanced at the railroad tracks that run alongside, to see if a train was approaching. Nothing. This was great. I hit the gas.
Immediately my entire windshield was filled with Chevy Suburban. All I could see in front of me was the huge side of a Chevy Suburban passing by, looking like it was two feet in front of my face. I absolutely don't know how I missed getting hit. I must have used up 2 of my nine lives on that one. I should have been scared out of my wits, but it happened so fast all it did was surprise me. I was more embarrassed than anything, and of course at the next traffic light the dude was sitting right next to me, glaring at me like I was an idiot. He might have been right. I just shrugged and mouthed "blind spot", as if he were a lip reader and that would explain everything. lol. Well, it seemed like a good idea at the time.
So, come get your stinking demon and take it back home, let it blow up some champagne bottles or something, and have it quit trying to kill wonderful me. |
