A Lesson for Bad Drivers

This is the latest entry on my life's list of near escapes.

After snagging some free tickets to the Vancouver Canucks game earlier this evening, I picked up my friend, Mel in a cab for a fun night of bawdy, bad-girl behavior. While exchanging quips in the back seat, I turned to see this car come out of his lane and ram into the side of our cab. While the impact was extremely loud, our very skilled driver managed to maneuver, minimizing the impact, and stop within inches of hitting a row of parked cars.

Once we stopped, we quickly surveyed each other for injuries. Confirming we were all fine, we got out of the car. The other driver and his passenger pulled over, got out of their car and started berating our driver for, get this, "not looking."

Yea, because driving straight in one lane can get a little tricky at times.

I decide to let the cab driver (let's call him Joe) deal with them. Five seconds later I changed my mind.

I couldn't help myself. Joe wasn't defending himself, so someone had to let these people know their bullshit wasn't going to get them very far. I understand that when you've done something incredibly preventable that endangers the lives of four other people that you may want to pass the guilt onto someone else. Being responsible for an accident is a really awful thing and I can understand if someone simply can't deal with the implications.

Having said that, these people didn't scale back the hostility but began getting more and more hysterical. It needed to stop. I walked up to them and took the only reasonable action I could: YELL REALLY LOUDLY AND WAVE MY FINGER IN THEIR FACE!

It needed to be done and since Joe was obviously distracted, probably trying to figure out how many days of work he was going to lose getting his car fixed, I figured I'd step in for the greater good and clarify the situation.

I made many valuable arguments that were clear, concise and included various re-enactments of how to shoulder-check and how to identify a douchebag (I gave them a mirror).

In the end, I have no idea how it turned out. We were late for the game and decided to walk the rest of the way so as not to miss the opening face-off. However, as a parting shot, I turned to Joe and said (very loudly for the benefit of all involved), "If you need me to explain to the authorities how these people nearly killed us or maimed us to the point of leading an utterly useless and unfulfilled existence, please give me a call."