Blaze
11-18-2006, 10:02 AM
:tickedoff:
Oh yes. And you people wonder why I avoid driving MY car. Besides the cops, there are just some generally bad drivers out there.
After a 2 hour drive from the IE down to the LA convention center, I'm the third car to arrive at the Japan Expo. I roll in through an impossibly narrow corridor and park in the staging area. I then have to push my car the remaining 50 yards or so into the venue. A quick dust off from the freeway trip and I'm good to go.
Heading down the 110, to the 101 and back onto the Eastbound 10 freeway, I hop into the carpool lane and settle into traffic. Somewhere just past the 710 interchange, the carpool lane comes to a grinding halt. The #1 lane is actually moving and I start wishing I was on a bike rather then a 4 wheeled beastie.
In the blink of perhaps two eye, there are lights coming up on the rear right 1/4 of the car. A series of "thuds" can be heard as the car leaves the #1 lane and drives over and through the divider cones and that separate the lanes and into the side of my car. It all happened so fast, I didn't even realize it was a car that hit me for a moment. But does the mother f%$ker stop? No, surprisingly he keeps right on going.
"Oh no he didn't," I mutter in my best Ebonics accent. And quickly I leave the lane to give chase. All I want is his lic. plate number. So I leave the lane, and accelerate through traffic as best I can. The now "hit and run" car is escaping as best he can through the stream of car, so rather then run the gambit of traffic, I jump into the breakdown lane and just shoot up. I find him trying to escape on an exit, pull behind him, hit the high beams and it's all over. Knowing now that I have his plate, he signals me that he wants to exit (playing it off like that was his intension the entire time) and I follow him into a parking lot. Ass!
We pull in, and this 7 foot dude hops out of a 2006 M3 convertible. The first few sentences out of his mouth only serve to re-affirm my opinion that BMW owners are assholes. I mean, I should know...I have three of them, right? So anyway, he starts acting all surprised and asks what happened?
me. You side swiped me.
ass. Oh? I thought I only tapped your mirror. What's this scrape along the side of your doors? Oh look, it comes right off when I rub it.
me. Please don't touch my car.
We exchange info and a witness pulls in to make certain everything is working out. I'm happy he offers his name and number. Back on the road 30 minutes later and it's an otherwise uneventful ride home and a debilitated, violated and otherwise deflowered vehicle.
No clue what the reapairs are going to cost. I haven't even gone outside in the daylight today to see the extent of the damage.
So sad is I. :'(
Blaze
Oh yes. And you people wonder why I avoid driving MY car. Besides the cops, there are just some generally bad drivers out there.
After a 2 hour drive from the IE down to the LA convention center, I'm the third car to arrive at the Japan Expo. I roll in through an impossibly narrow corridor and park in the staging area. I then have to push my car the remaining 50 yards or so into the venue. A quick dust off from the freeway trip and I'm good to go.
Heading down the 110, to the 101 and back onto the Eastbound 10 freeway, I hop into the carpool lane and settle into traffic. Somewhere just past the 710 interchange, the carpool lane comes to a grinding halt. The #1 lane is actually moving and I start wishing I was on a bike rather then a 4 wheeled beastie.
In the blink of perhaps two eye, there are lights coming up on the rear right 1/4 of the car. A series of "thuds" can be heard as the car leaves the #1 lane and drives over and through the divider cones and that separate the lanes and into the side of my car. It all happened so fast, I didn't even realize it was a car that hit me for a moment. But does the mother f%$ker stop? No, surprisingly he keeps right on going.
"Oh no he didn't," I mutter in my best Ebonics accent. And quickly I leave the lane to give chase. All I want is his lic. plate number. So I leave the lane, and accelerate through traffic as best I can. The now "hit and run" car is escaping as best he can through the stream of car, so rather then run the gambit of traffic, I jump into the breakdown lane and just shoot up. I find him trying to escape on an exit, pull behind him, hit the high beams and it's all over. Knowing now that I have his plate, he signals me that he wants to exit (playing it off like that was his intension the entire time) and I follow him into a parking lot. Ass!
We pull in, and this 7 foot dude hops out of a 2006 M3 convertible. The first few sentences out of his mouth only serve to re-affirm my opinion that BMW owners are assholes. I mean, I should know...I have three of them, right? So anyway, he starts acting all surprised and asks what happened?
me. You side swiped me.
ass. Oh? I thought I only tapped your mirror. What's this scrape along the side of your doors? Oh look, it comes right off when I rub it.
me. Please don't touch my car.
We exchange info and a witness pulls in to make certain everything is working out. I'm happy he offers his name and number. Back on the road 30 minutes later and it's an otherwise uneventful ride home and a debilitated, violated and otherwise deflowered vehicle.
No clue what the reapairs are going to cost. I haven't even gone outside in the daylight today to see the extent of the damage.
So sad is I. :'(
Blaze