Running with Demon Drivers

On Friday, Jay and I went for a run--well, Jay was running and I was riding my bike. It was getting dark so I had the good 'ole bike light on as we headed for a loop aroung the lake. After we had reached the top of the hill and were looking forward to an excellent downhill, a car made a slow, calculated swerve at Jay and into the bike lane! Jay jumped to the side and yelled at the car while I jumped off my bike and was heard to yell something like, "move the f*&:! over" at the top of my lungs. Jay actually chased the car once it passed us, but the car was going at least the speed limit--35 mph, so there was no chance. After the nauseating feeling in my stomach subsided, I realized that neither of us had been able to read the license plate of the car.

Jay noted that this type of thing had happened to him before and he attributed it to stupid teenagers, a Friday night, and the warm weather that day. I had NEVER had that happen to me before and was furious once I got over the shock of almost seeing my husband get hit by a car. More than anything I wanted to drag those jerks out of their car and force them to spend a week tending to people in the ICU. Haven't people seen what serious car accident victims look like? Man, I know I sound old but honestly messing around with someone else's safety goes WAY beyond the line for me.

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