Saturday, October 11, 2008
Ridin' Crazy.......with Matt.
For all you thrill seekers out there I have a new extreme sport for you, ride in a car with Matt Wenstrup. Never in my life have I gone through feeling like I wanted to throw up, to anger, to sheer adrenaline, to wanting to hide under my seat all in the matter of a few seconds. It would be like getting on a roller coaster that you just watched someone die on.
Let me say that I knowingly and willing got in a car with him, I of course have no reason as to why I keep doing this to myself, but I was under my own volition. It was supposed to be a simple trip downtown and back to run an errand, but it instead turn into an adventure that made me consider drafting my last will and testament.
First off the kid has the attention span of a fruit fly, if he is not cycling through the radio like it was some sort of speed contest then it was weaving in and out of traffic like the car was on fire. Of course he is doing all this while his head is on some sort of swivel, every time I dare to open my eyes and look over his head is turning and pivoting all around in order to find another spot with about a millimeter to spare and squeeze his car in it. I will admit it is impressive, he seems to know by sight the exact length of his car, because he will not hesitate to shove it into a spot that barely give him room. Hell if we got any closer to most of those cars we would have had some strange hybrid car of theirs and ours. We get to our destination in one piece, I would say safely, but as you can tell safety was clearly NOT the word of the day. So I uncurled from the fetal position and wiped the mix of tears and throw up off my face and laid on the ground just to make it stop moving. I thought that it might be a good idea to turn to religion. I thought that I should actually thank God, Buddha, Ala, Moses, or whoever Jews worship for making sure that I got here OK and also have them all watch over me on the return trip since it will take ALL of them to get me home I am sure.
After the errand it was time for the return trip, or as I call it, the journey back through hell. If you would ever want to see what it is like to see a rabid animal caged, watch Matt in traffic. He is aggressive, fidgety, anxious, impatient, hell there aren't enough adjective to go around. At one point we were behind a lady on a cell phone that was lagging behind the car in front of her by about 30-40 yards while in a traffic jam. Matt did at least honk his horn lightly a couple times to get her to move, but impatience took over and Matt got in the shoulder and whipped around her in a move that Nascar drivers might not have made. Somewhere Dale Earnheart is rolling in his grave.
As we arrived home I again peeled myself off of the car seat and ran inside so that I may change out of my urine and shit stained boxers. For the next 24 hours I felt like I was still in the car. If I sat down it was like an acid flashback, I was suddenly back in Matt's car zooming around at about mach 20 and everything is a blur. Now if you will excuse me I am going to go throw up.