wash-and-wax
We have left the Bucktooth Bathtub with a guy to wash-and-wax it — a job so big we old folks farm it out. (I can wash a car, but waxing it is almost a whole day. The Toy store [where we bought it] did it last Spring, and it looked so great we decided to have someone else do it.)
Returning from Canandaigua was on a rural, back-country road.
It eventually enters nearby Bloomfield, where we turn right (west) onto 5&20.
The turn onto 5&20 is a main intersection in the center of town; no traffic-lights (there should be — I almost got T-boned by Granny there once), only stop-signs.
I approach the intersection, right-turn signal on, wait for an opening, and start into the intersection.
Suddenly about halfway through my turn “PRAAMMMMMMPP!” A silver Cobalt is roaring straight across 5&20; it’s driver angrily glaring at me, and mouthing obscenities.
NOW WHAT? I was already halfway through my turn.
Sorry chillen; couldn’t see if it had a Dubya-sticker. All I saw was the quickly-disappearing right flank of the car, and its angry driver.
He had probably narrowly avoided rearending me, and therefore decided to lash out.
Sorry REPUBLICANS. I can’t make a sharp 10-mph right-turn at 152 mph. (I’ve had similar dramas occur at our driveway.)
Labels: No Dubya-sticker
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