August 26, 2009
The One-Eyed Car
I have a rather simple commute to work: seven miles of lonely country road, heavily wooded on either side, with nary a streetlamp along the way. It's a lonely stretch of highway at 5:15 in the morning, but the only thing to fear is fear itself the misanthropic deer who dart across the road in ones, twos, fours, or fives, like the flipside of a Krugerrand. Summer's not bad; it's like a fucking bush ride through the Serengeti in winter.
Every morning I pass the same car: about the same spot in the road, somewhere between 5:17 and 5:22. He's as punctual as me. He going to work in my county, me in his. This car only has one headlamp. The driver's side is not only out: the entire corner of the car is crumpled. Probably from poor driving, although I applaud his punctuality in the early hours. I've passed this car every morning for nine months. He is forever tempting fate by driving in horrible deer- and possum-infested woods with one sad headlight.
I've never been able to ascertain the model of the car, what with the stygian gloom, other than it's American. Male? Female? I am at a loss. But I have become absorbed as to why the car never gets repaired. Most likely penury. It could be a poor soul rending his garments in fear every morning, afeered of deer and sheriff's deputies. It could be a person who filed the insurance claim and blew the money. Ultimately, it could just be a no-good cracker who doesn't give a fig, a lowlife who has scudded sidewise along the edge of conformity his entire life like a dangerous crab, just getting by. Just getting by.
I pulled an old evil trick this morning, and hit him with the high beams from 30 feet: maximum distance without giving him time to respond before I passed. Not that he could: he's a one-eyed car. It wasn't with malice, of course. It was just to let him know I know him, he knows me assuredly, and I got him. All my erstwhile pathos for the squib had been exfoliated in a brilliant moment. Tomorrow morning when I pass him I expect either a feeble high beam from his one good eye, or a whiskey bottle at my window. It's a county car: either outcome will be fine.
I hope he's not a churchgoer. I did a stint in the country from the age of 9 to 15. I didn't care for it, to be perfectly honest. I've tried to be more accepting this time around. I'll tell you this, though: to me there is a direct correlation between the amount of time a person spends in church and my level of distrust of said mountebank. Nothing personal, it's just a defense mechanism, a turtle's shellac formed from years of experience. Call it Crawford's Law. It works like this: if you go to church once a week, I'm not leaving my wallet in the room with you; if you go twice a week, I'm counting the silver when you leave. If you attend church thrice a week you aren't getting near my girlfriend, because you are a full blown sociopath, who probably has my silverware up your keister. It could be worse for you: mere dalliance with Islam will get you an annotation in my Charlie Manson Moleskine.
But, having said that, I'm trying to do better, and be a more accepting and tolerant person. Just like that electrical salute I gave the one-eyed car today. It's all about the contact. People appreciate it when you reach across the cultural divide like that.
High beams in the face are short-term and therefore negotiable, but I keep a 3 million candlepower Q-Beam in the cab for those fuckers that roll up behind me without a courtesy dim.
Posted by: apotheosis at August 26, 2009 8:52 PMHe's a serial killer, waiting for some poor schmuck, in a moment of false recognition, to slap their high beams into his steely gray, yet somewhat dead eyes. Hunchbacks have been known to have lessor humps, and his was named Sally. A trained whore from the old Arctic Circle's sumo wrestling team, oil change crew, and mayonnaise testers.
Posted by: dick at August 26, 2009 8:52 PMI keep a 3 million candlepower Q-Beam in the cab
Those are awesome for when you're rolling along on routine 'check on the remote facility' patrol and you see a guy's car parked - not a stranger, just someone in your unit - and you know he's in there with his girl.
Not that I've ever done that. That would be wrong.
But boy, howdy, did Jxxxxx jump up like a scared cat when that light flashed into his car from about two feet away.
Sorry about that, Jxxxxx, wherever you are. But oh man the look on your face.
Posted by: Brian Dunbar at August 26, 2009 9:02 PMSimplicity itself. He bagged the doe with the driver's side and he's trying to bag the buck with the right.
Posted by: vanderleun at August 26, 2009 9:14 PMI was going to explain how I was beggaring a metaphor about how the less inspired amongst us sometimes see the light and cast aside the cheap comfort of a tax teat,while others respond with predictable violence, but... hey! An old bottle of Ten High. Party!
Posted by: Velociman at August 26, 2009 9:19 PMDo the Jew-Church count? 'Cause I goes most days... which means, by your crude Rule o' Thumb, that I must not only have your sterling silver service for twelve up my ass, but I've also scanned the magnetic strips offa all your bank cards.
Posted by: Elisson at August 26, 2009 9:24 PMSorry hoss, it's just not a metaphor-getting kinda day.
Posted by: apotheosis at August 26, 2009 9:39 PMGood God man, who'd you sell your soul to for that use of language and where do I sign up?
You read like Cormac McCarthy with a point.
Posted by: Egg Shen at August 26, 2009 10:24 PMVman,
I sat down to read your latest after getting back home from church tonight... weds night after all.. and I'm like WTF???
A cracker like you actually has silver ware??? I was thinking more bout how i was gonna stick the plastic forks up my rectum, but now I might change my mind...
But i guess your rule of thumb might actually have some merit since I religiously read your chicken scratching on a daily basis... I had been thinking that was the cause of my sociopathic behavior, but i now see that I was wrong...
Adios
bill
Posted by: Bill Henry at August 27, 2009 12:08 AMWell, for what it's worth, I got hit by several deer back in May (they hit me and not the other way around, thank O). Considering I have a high deductible on my insurance, I'm waiting to save the money to cover the cost of the repair without having to report it. Guesstimates on repairs are about $250 to $500 over the deductible, so it's a toss-up on reporting it.
Yeah, imagine having insurance and being hesitant to use it.
Posted by: Chrees at August 27, 2009 2:00 AMAt 5:15, I'm just beginning to rustle enough coordination to man a dish towel and wipe up the blood tinged puke from just a few hours before.
Fuck work. What's that anyway? And who cares who is stealing the silverware if the liquor cabinet is secure.
Writer's priorities and to hell with the theme. Full vomit ahead, sez me.
Posted by: Andy at August 27, 2009 2:03 AMHell, if you went to church more often, you would feel compelled to offer assistance, and steal anything worth the trouble.
Posted by: Sam at August 27, 2009 8:26 AMAnd I wonder what he thinks of you -- this car that he sees every day headed in the opposite direction.
What must he think of you now?
Posted by: Kath at August 27, 2009 7:43 PMI say find a way to get "Christmas Gift!" on him sometime before the holidays.
Posted by: Belinda at August 27, 2009 8:24 PMSo it's you.
Posted by: Ricky Raccoon at August 27, 2009 8:46 PMOne eyed cars are really called Popeye.
Posted by: Don Jr. at August 31, 2009 8:06 AM