So I almost died last night. That was fun.
Followers of Jen's journal will have already heard this heartwarming story, but here's my version. After being lost for a while in Jersey, Tony, Tom, Jen, Michelle and I had to get off the turnpike and get back on. In our attempt to do so, we encountered a three-way fork in the road. None of these forks were labeled, so I took the one that looked like an on-ramp.
It was in fact an off-ramp. And coming off the off-ramp was an enormous 18-wheeler truck.
Yeah.
So I did the only logical thing and thought: "Oh my god. I'm going to die. Right now."
Then I jumped the curb and didn't. Blew out the right front tire of the car, but there was no further damage and I and all my friends (none of whom wanted to put their SEATBELTS ON) are fine. Jen called AAA once it was decided we weren't going to be able to get the nuts off the tire, and Jen, Lou and Dan met us. The mechanic from AAA was calling me Evel Kenievel, but honestly, the guy could have called me Ratcock Assface if he'd wanted to at that point. I was just glad to get the new tire on and get the hell out of there.
It didn't occur to me until I was driving home that if I was even a slightly worse or less reflexive driver, I and several of my good friends would be quite dead right now. And that is one disconcerting motherfucker of a thought.
Of course, true to nerd form, Tony and I were trying to figure out the DC (difficulty class, for the uncool amongst us) was for making that curb jump and not dying, and what kind of penalties would have been applied to my roll: -1 for darkness, -1 for clogged ears, -1 for disorientation. When you think about it, I did pretty well. (SUCH dorks!) Joe was also comparing me to Magnum PI later on, which I guess makes him Higgins. I dunno.
I feel bad that everyone missed Raw, but I feel a lot better that we're alive. Raw didn't sound that good from what I read anyway.
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