Incoherent Babble

So I was on my way home from work today. It’d been a pretty damn stressful day, as I tried to get everything wrapped up so I didn’t feel like I was leaving too many loose ends when I took Thursday and Friday off, so I was in and out on the drive home. After sitting in traffic at the ever-faithful 3-block-long backup that is the Pelham Road - Hudson Road / Patewood Drive intersection, I was ready to get home and be left alone for a while, if just to collect my thoughts before getting back to work.

20 minutes later, I’m two blocks away from home, sitting at the last traffic light I have to go through. I happen to glance up and see a dark green Miata coming down the street to the light on the opposite side of the intersection.

For one reason or another, I actually pay attention to who’s in the car. I quickly recognize the passenger… she’s the token hot chick that lives in our neighborhood: blonde, boobs, high school cheerleader… ’nuff said, right? Upon further inspection, I realize I don’t recognize the driver, but he looks to be barely 16 and a typical prick that I’d hate, so I save time and go ahead and start hating him…

Just before the light changes, he takes a right on red and floors it to prove his manliness, to the point that I can hear the engine over the DMX that had come up in my iPod’s playlist. A split second later, the light turns green and I make my left, pulling out just behind him.

I have the windows about 1/4 of the way down, and quickly notice… a smell. It takes my brain a few seconds to process the smell and realize what it distinctly is: his clutch.

Another split second later, and I hear a loud *CRACK*, and daddy’s bright, shiny, 2-day-old-dealer-plates-wearing midlife crisis-mobile suddenly stops accelerating and drifts into a church parking lot and stops.

The look on that kid’s face was so priceless!

I hate rich pricks…