I don't believe people. Last night at 2:30 am while I was sitting here in the living room, I heard a pickup drive by that was going way too fast and revving his engine like he was trying to impress someone. Even without the snow and ice on the ground, and the snow coming down, it would have been too fast, but you know how guys in pickups are...
Anyway, I heard him skid out as he attempted to make the corner. Not that Starsky & Hutch kind of skidding, but that dumb-fuck-pickup-on-snow-and-ice skidding. Then I heard a huge crunch. I hadn't heard two cars, so my mind immediately analyzed that he had hit something stationary. My first thought was the car that belongs to the young couple across the street.
I jumped up and looked out the window and saw a black pickup working really hard to backup over the couple's yard, slipping and sliding, and then take off up the street at breakneck speed. The couple wasn't home; I remembered that they'd left on Boxing Day. Thank God. There is significant damage to their front porch. Damned hit and run driver! I called the police, but all they said was to write everything down and give it to the couple when they return home.
What is it with guys in pickups? I'll bet the driver was on his way home from a bar. A couple of years ago this happened a few streets away, except instead of mangling a front porch, the drunk driver crashed through the side of a house, barely missing an infant sleeping in its crib.
I have my eye open for you, Billy-Bob. When I see you drive by with your crushed-in hood, I'm taking down your plate number. Hope you're proud of yourself today.
