Sunday Driving

Don’t know why the car behind me had wild gesticulating hands attached to writhing bodies moving in some sort of native dance, I had only cut them off when pulling out of a side street so you can see my quizzical brow asking myself the question.

And still the maniacal dance behind me continued.

I thought I had finally figured it out, they must be in a rush to get to hospital or some other important synonym and (I again figured) why should I be the one to get in their important way?

So I slowed and waved the illegally lowered, Knight Shade tinted Jap Import past me –

Only to have it slow to my speed and wave all over the road with the contents continuing their sign language,

A sign language that left me feeling I had misread the initial interpretation I had made, it would appear there was no actual important destination for this abomination of a vehicle, only the arrogance of perceived ownership of the road, which I knew was a mistaken one considering the God that I am (Heidi and I have come to a compromise in that I am not actually The God but perhaps one with a little ‘g’).

In any case, this conclusion and nascent understanding of the situation drastically altered my countenance and decision making.


You can take my word for it that maneuvering a family four door sedan with a stick shift and no additions to make it a road rocket up and past the car in front of me was no easy task, I imagine that having them not expecting me to actually try this was an important feature, as well as me engaging the power button and leaving the overdrive off – the other tricky bit I had not attempted prior to this was a 180 drift using a foot/hand brake; it was a little shaky and lacking the Mags to reduce wind resistance did not help though the desired outcome was achieved and I slid to a stop in front of them as they skidded to their own.

Being a forward thinker (hahhaha) I had reached down the side of my seat during the slide and popped the boot, so by the time the car had drifted to a halt I was already out of the door and gathering the golf club, a driver, located next the decomposing hitchhiker I picked up 1 week ago – hint, leaving lime and lavender in next to a body greatly reduces the stench that can lead to projectile vomiting.

I don’t know why I had kept this old club though it had a weight to it that when held it felt like part of me, the other reason was it had an old green and red felt grip which reminded me of Freddy Kruger and so naturally this piece of art will be with me for some time, as well as at this moment being a piece of art that was about to be functional.


By the time I was around the front of my car their doors were beginning to open.


Jap metal has a distinct sound when slammed against itself, especially when the force driving the collision of metal on metal comes from the inside of the car.


I mounted their bonnet and swung the club with the belief it was a Fiery Sword, I knew it would not take out the windscreen though the shattering spider effect of the glass and associated lack of seeing where the fuck I was located was indeed the fear I wanted to inspire.

A quick look down at where I was standing showed what affect Alligator Boots with metal heel and tip can do to tin foil meant to be a bonnet.

I leapt from the initial position to the drivers side of the car and took out the dramatically over tinted window and then the passengers side as I wanted them all to see me and see the effect of their actions – action equals consequence and consequence was me.


Surprisingly the gesticulations were not in evidence only bodies leaning away from me with whitened faces previous to this I had only seen on corpses.


I leant into the driver’s side and tapped the ash of my slowly burning cigarillo into his lap and looked at him through my Pilots Sunglasses.

Silence is a word best felt and understood in these kinds of situations, you truly experience it in its visceral form before the spelling of the word was decided upon.


“I know you” he said, his timbre being alike that of a castrato though trying to raise to at least a tenor, “I know you from prison, you won’t get away with this”.


Really.

“You know me do you? Well if that’s the case you know who I know in prison, who I know outside of prison, who I know on both sides of the bars and you should at least have an understanding of opinions of me. Is this not true?”

An understanding crossed his face.


Sirens began to come to our respective ears from the distance but most definitely coming our way.


“You’d better motor on off in a slow inconspicuous manner; I’ll take care of the cops”.

“Are you sure?” he asked with acquiescence.

“Yip, just remember our conversation and everything will be fine” I replied with the Freddy Club languidly hanging over my shoulder.


The import shuddered off and I watched it’s over sized muffler disappear into the distance as marked and unmarked Police cars screeched to a halt around me.


I turned around to see guns drawn and pointing at me.


The guns went down as I turned around and the plainclothes Detective came wandering up to me.

“Jesus Dave, why this again?”

“You guy’s like the chase, you like the hunt and more than that you like the anticipation of it all and pushing those over powered cars past their limit as you know they’re not yours and seeing how fast you can go over these new speed bumps is fun”.

“True” he conceded, “But why only the Cowboy Hat and Alligator boots? Can’t you for once put on a shirt and some pants? It scares the shite out of people”

“I believe you just answered your own question, and besides nothing goes with it – and don’t you dare mention leather, cows are my friends, for reasons we will not go into here, too many witness’s”.

“Well did you at least get the number plate?”

“Of course, but forget about them, they are going to be laying low and ‘wondering when’ for some time, my way saves you time, overtime and a shit load of paperwork”.

He seemed annoyed and placated at the same time, though I could see he was in agreement with everything we had talked about.

He finally spoke.

“Guess I’ll see you at my place with the rest of the force for the BBQ tonight?”

“Indeed, it would be rude not to, I’ll bring the family”

“Good” he quickly retorted “At least I know you’ll be wearing clothes”.

“Yes my friend, for I am a culture vulture and understand customs handed down from the ancient Inca’s, my head dress will be in full plume and the skirt I wear will be ironed”.

“As usual then” as he walked back to the unmarked vehicle and motioned the uninitiated cops back to their cars.


I stood a little longer after they had left; sometimes it is a strange yet fulfilling feeling dealing with both sides of the force in such a short period of time and having the outcome you want, the outcome you predicted.


Though it still (after so long) leaves me wondering where I fit in amongst it all.



In the dark of night when others are asleep and my minds synaptic messages do not allow this for me I realize this is the human condition, one example of its many forms.






The Grey Madness