On almost rear-ending Bigfoot

I was making good time on the way home from work today, trying to outrun a bigass storm cloud because I had the damn boot on, and it's a major pain in the ass to put the top up when you have to take that off first. I got about half way home when gigantic rain drops the size of quarters started bouncing off the top of my head.

I pulled into a rest stop and parked next to a white pickup truck and jumped out of the car. I thought the truck was empty, but when I walked by it, some sort of demonspawn wolf-dog with a head the size of a wrecking ball almost broke his neck (and the passenger side window of the truck) trying to get a fresh, juicy piece of prime JV. Needless to say, I almost shit myself right there in the parking lot.

I did manage to get the top up in record time, however. You move pretty fast after you almost puke up your heart.

Of course, it stopped raining about 5 minutes later, but at least I managed to be outside for the worst of it. Once I hit my exit, I figured it would be smooth sailing, but instead I got stuck behind some behemoth 4x4 that looked like it came straight from a monster truck competition. The guy kept riding his brakes for no reason at all, and it was beginning to piss me off. I am pretty sure that if he locked them up, I could have taken the miata right up the middle between the back tires and popped out in front like some sort of shiny blue japanese torpedo, but I didn't want to test that theory. I continued to follow him for a good 5 miles, and right around mile two, I notice something else weird.

Not only is he riding his brakes, he is driving around the manhole covers.

Every. Single. One.

If there's was a crack in the road, or even the slightest, tiniest indication that there might be a small pothole or asphalt irregularity, he swerves around it. To the point where he is practically in the oncoming lane about 60% of the time.

I don't understand. This truck could have driven over a convoy of volkswagen beetles at 70 miles per hour and the driver would not have spilled a single drop of his Coors Light. The shock absorbers (and there were two of them on each rear wheel) were as big around as my legs, and the tires had tread so deep that I am pretty sure I actually saw a woodchuck wedged in there struggling to get out.

I have no explanation for it. My theories are as follows: (1) Maybe he just likes to slolom. (2) Maybe he's a big pussy. (3) Maybe he has really bad hemmorhoids, or (4) He's drunk, and his other car is a Geo Metro. I don't know. What I do know is that it was annoying as hell.

Eventually he turned into a side street and I was able to make it the rest of the way home without having to worry about some freako nutjob in front of me suddenly locking up his brakes because there's a pebble in the road.

I will be wondering about this one for a bit, because if it had been me, I would have been aiming for the damn potholes and manhole covers and volkswagens just to put a little spice in the ride. That's what trucks like that are for, fer chrissake.

I have no clue. People are strange.

Oh, and go here and vote for me over on the right. I'm trying to win a bitchin' keychain. No really. It says "Life's a bitch and so am I." Clever, huh? Truth be told, I don't really want the keychain. It's that damned silver ring. It....it calls to me. I can't take my eyes off of it.

UPDATE: The keychain contest is over. If i won, I'll let you all know.