Sheer Stupidity

Life is full of surprises. A slight of hand here, and a twist of fate there, can completely change the course of your journey. I learned this lesson the hard way, many years ago, when I had gotten my first car. It was a Dodge Neon. Nothing to brag about, but even though I didn't know it, this car would be my metaphor for life in many ways. It was a piece of crap, but it got me from point A to point B, and even allowed me to go on dates occasionally. It was poorly designed, worked inconsistently, but was mine to behold and cherish. Some time after I got my car, I was involved in an incident that would ensure my life would never be the same.

After graduating college my life consisted of work, gym, and girlfriend. I worked in New York City, barely made any money, and went to the gym after work. My motivation for going to the gym was 2-fold. Of course I wanted to be in shape for the girlfriend, but more importantly I worked for the corporate headquarters of Club Monaco clothing. My office consisted of 79 women, and 21 men, of which 14 were gay. So I had to be in shape, or else I'd feel like I simply did not belong. Every day consisted of an exhausting commute chasing after buses and trains, and them coming home and hitting the weights at Guido Central, otherwise known as The Pyramid Club.

On a typical Wednesday, I went into work, and did my job. I fixed people's computers. I had no time for breakfast, so at lunch time, I was famished. I had a nice fulfilling burrito. I spent the rest of the day attending to my tasks at work, and then commuted back home. My cousin had agreed to come to the gym with me that day. So off we went. We started out at the treadmill. It was quite embarrassing, because my burrito was making its way through my system, and I had to let one rip while running. I refused to slow down the treadmill, and I refused to get off before finishing 2 miles, as a result the Black Woman next to me had to suffer. I saw the look of disgust in her face as soon as the gas had whaffed her way. I also made a similar look of disgust to hint that the wrong-doing was not my fault. I carried on after I finished my run, and went to the weights. My cousin and I had an exhaustive work out. We cooled off with some water and decided to go home.

I got in my Dodge Neon like I had done hundreds of times before, but this time would be different. I was feeling satisfied from my workout, and relieved from the burrito. I blasted the radio and was rocking out to some obscure house song. I pulled out of my parking spot and me and my cousin were on our way home. I got to the edge of the lot, and went to make the left turn. I cut the wheel and accelerated.

BOOM! CRASH! POOF!

When you think you are going to die, you react in unusual ways. I don't know what happened, or how it happened, but when I came to my senses the glass was shattered, and the air bag was blowing hot steam. "Run! Run for your life man! The car is gonna blow!!!!" My cousin and I were scared out of our minds. My cousin had so much adrenaline in him that he kicked the door open and we ran from the car like John McCain would run from a Vietnamese restaurant. We were yelling at all the people coming out of the gym "Be careful, the car is gonna explode!" When everyone started hysterically laughing at us, I knew that I was thoroughly embarrassed and in fact my car was not going to explode.

Apparently, I was so stupid, that when I made the left turn I didn't realize there was a curb there. With my talented driving skills I actually managed to accelerate the car into the curb. I did it so fast, that the front of the car caught air, and when it landed my axle broke in half. The airbags had deployed, and the windows had exploded from the pressure. I can't explain why I thought the car was gonna blow up. Maybe I thought I was a hero in a movie. However, if I was someone coming out of the gym, and I saw two idiots running from a car that was on a curb, yelling that it was gonna blow, I'd probably laugh my ass off as well. All in all, I screwed up the Neon so bad, that couldn't even be towed properly, they had to get a special tow truck that actually lifted the car off the ground, to bring it back to my house. All my neighbors kept asking how it happened, and when I told them they fell of their asses laughing.

I guess, sometimes stupidity does not even begin to describe a situation. Life like my Neon can come to an unexpected end that no one might see coming. The only thing to do afterwards is laugh about how retarded the driver is.