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  1. #1
    No One of Consequence wilomn's Avatar
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    Bright Enough for Sunglasses

    This actually happened. More or less. Mostly more. It was highly amusing.

    Bright enough for sunglasses, warm enough for short sleeves, just enough of a breeze blowing to keep the leaves singing, softly, but so closely mimicking the ocean that with my eyes closed I could almost smell the salt and feel the sand. It was a pretty nice morning.

    I'm cruising along Sepulveda Blvd. on my way to work. Got a mess o' kids to be showin' my critters to in a coupla hours. Traffic is about as light as it gets on a late weekday morning; there are places, short to be true, that my speed actually passes the twenty mph mark.

    I've got the windows down, the radio on, wind blowing through the car and a nice mellow feeling enveloping me like a peel does a banana, completely, without seam, encapsulating. Right then, on that nice sunny morning driving from the Valley into West L.A., gently swerving around the curves and bends that make this little pass possible, I had not a problem in the world.

    Shoot, we were even starting to move at high speed. Soon my speedometer needle would actually be touching the 3 maybe even nudging the 4 if things really opened up. It had happened. That time. Only a couple of years ago. Really.

    There was usually some pretty thick traffic going south from the Valley in the morning. So far so good. It's late morning and I'm southbound, smooth all the way. Everything is good.

    Except for the other drivers. I sigh deeply as I recall that morning.

    Courtesy is not something you count on down here in LaLa Land. You get it, this is true, but not often. You can't count on it. Generally speaking though, it's someone cutting you off or speeding up to cut you off, slowing for the same reason or just the blindness that seems to only afflict some people when they are behind the wheel. Otherwise nice and kindly folks kinda turn nasty, viscous even, when they’re behind the wheel. There’s an awful lot of that down here.

    The small blue toyota/honda/acura one indiscernible from the next mid 80s model sedan that was trying to crawl up my tailpipe was not really nosing around virgin territory, but I was not really receiving callers at that time, no matter how sweetly they nudged the nethers of my fine driving machine. Having been rear ended a time or two on this very road, I kept my eyes on my fellow travelers for my sake.

    The road curved and curled like a ribbon of Christmas Candy, smoothly banking around hills, gently arcing, gracefully descending in this part of Sepulveda Pass. No straight and narrow here. Being as how I had a load of live creatures in the back, I wasn't really speeding. In fact, I was actually breaking on the curves and not accelerating out of them at 3Gs. By planning in advance I had allowed myself more than adequate time to arrive early at my destination.

    This must have greatly irritated the hatchetfaced driver of the toyota/honda/acura one indiscernible from the next mid 80s model sedan. He came charging around me, almost smacking my rear bumper, about an inch and a half from the side of my car, clearing the front by millimeters and swerving in into my lane, causing me to slam on my breaks, causing my load to shift and slide, possibly damaging it.

    Sigh. Deep sigh. This guy had no idea the fun he was about to have. Nor did I, but hey, I'm open to what comes most days. Even if I have to help it on its way, whatever it is.

    There are stop lights every little bit on this road. Some are barely half a mile from one to the next, a couple might have a mile between them. Plenty of time to play catch up. I drove this stretch of pavement regularly and had for many years. Home territory, as it were.

    Now I figure, based on nothing more than a momentary glimpse and Hatchetface and his car, that a couple of things are true and can be used to my advantage. Number one, with beady narrow-set eyes like his, looking rather like a vulture with a nose that rivaled many a ski jump, with hair so carefully and manfully coiffed, with arms that only roids could provide, giant white slabs of polished marble or maybe feta cheese, I had an idea or two that I was looking forward to implementing.

    Catching up to my bigg gunned buffoon of a new friend, I rolled down my window and stared, just stared, right at the side of his head. He wouldn't look at me so I just stared, head turned at a 90 degree angle, shoulders squared directly to the front, making it more than obvious that I was looking at him. I noticed his breathing rate increase, his great bellows of a chest beginning to heave as he drilled a hole through his windshield with the intensity of his not looking at me.

    Twenty, maybe twenty-five seconds go by, me looking intensely, silently, laughing inside my cheek, Hatchetface breathing fast and hard, beginning to purse his lips as he sucked and blew on the giant invisible straw stuffed between them.

    Green light. Hatchetface speeding away like the plastic rabbit streaking along the rail at the dog track, fleeing fiercely.

    Until he decides he's not done. Oh my, oh my.

    Slowing down, way down, he falls behind me in the next lane over. Big whoop, I'm thinking to myself, he was going so fast, not looking at me so hard, he probably drove past his turn, needing to turn around to go wherever it is that these people go. Hardly my problem.

    Hardly my problem until he once again comes zooming up on me, actually swerving into my lane this time to make me swing out and, had there been any, into oncoming traffic, then cutting in front of me again, then falling in beside me, shadowing me as we cruise on down the road.

    I don't know if he ever saw me laughing, but I hope he did. I was enjoying my ride. I held my ground, being insured, I had no real worries and even at the incredible pace of 40 miles per hour, I was not worried about losing control on my end. Freeway driving here meant doing 80 2 inches from the concrete divider, something that was part of my daily commute.

    My thinking is that he had played this game before, but had not before played it with anyone he didn't scare off right away.

    Having stayed within about 6 inches, much to his dismay for that last couple hundred yards, of his driver's side door, we hit another red light. It's a longish one and I get stopped by it regularly.

    Waiting about 10 seconds I get out of my car, all 6 foot 240 lbs of me, hair to my ass and a big ol mustache and goatee. He may have not seen my face as yet, thinking he was rousting some poor chick if all he saw was my gleaming tresses flying in the wind. My face was stone, but I was laughing my ass off inside. It was a damn fine day and this assclown was highly amusing.

    I walked around the front of my car, looking him dead in the eye, or as best I could, walked up to his window, which he had quite hastily rolled up, positioned my Sunglass wearing face, showing nothing, not smiling, not angry, just blank, about 8 inches from his window. Then I stared. That's it. Just stared. Right at him. Without moving a muscle of my body. Though he couldn't see it, I didn't blink either. I just stared.

    I was also timing the light. I knew it would change very soon. I had a plan.

    As I was staring at Hatchetface he was breathing even louder and faster, his puckered sphincter of a mouth pursed like a fish too long out of water, opening and closing spasmodically, chest heaving, he starts fumbling on the side of his seat.

    This is L.A. I've seen swords and clubs and guns. I've seen people do really stupid things. I've had a hellofa ride. So I keep staring, knowing that no matter what he's got, no matter what he thinks he's going to do, he's my . (female dog if it gets censored)

    Out comes a bayonette. Big one. Looked sharp. Black. Heavy. I liked it. It was a nice one. Hatchetface is nearly apoplectic by now and can't seem to talk. It looks like he’s trying, but he may just be sucking air. He looks like he does a lot of sucking. Gesturing wildly with the knife, giant biceps enfolded by even larger triceps capped by traps wider than my hands, I was amazed at how tiny his little chicken legs were. Seriously, skinny little 13 year old girl legs, cardboard tube in toilet paper roll skinny, on this steroid stuffed muscle bloated torso topped by the sharpest nose and chin I had ever seen.

    He's back to not looking at me, then taking nanosecond glances to see if he's scaring me, waving his penis, er knife, at me while I stand there, just staring. Not moving, not moving at all.

    Until, and I've been waiting for this since I got to his car, the light for opposing traffic turned yellow. I knew he wasn't watching the light, he was too busy not watching me to see anything but me no matter how hard he wanted me to think otherwise.

    Two and a half seconds after the light for cross traffic turned yellow left me with about three quarters of a second. I had to time it right to really work. That day, that fine sunny gentle breeze blowing day, my timing was good.

    A milli-second before our light went from red to green, just as Hatchetface was taking one of those nano-second nonglances he had been shooting at me, I slammed my arms upward and directly at his car. I moved fast. From no movement at all for many seconds to inches from his face, my not too tiny arms rocketed directly at him. As I moved my arms, just as fast as I could, thinking all the while that only a big black cape could possibly improve the effect this was having, I gave a loud sharp "HEY YA!!"

    My hands stopped an inch from his car. I stared at him just a second longer, seeing fear hit him like a freight train, wrecking him, dropping the knife as he flinched as far from me as his seat belt would allow, left arm, big as the pillow I slept on, protecting his face from my imagined blow to come, the one that never landed, the one that fooled him bad.

    Throwing back my head, for effect I admit, I laughed out loud as I SLOWLY made my was back to my car, SLOWLY got in, SLOWLY buckled up, and drove off like a man without a care in the world.

    Which I was.

    8 seconds later he's beside me waving his knife, pointing to the side of the road, swerving all over his lane, but oddly NOT crossing the line into mine, gesturing for me to pull over now that his testosterone has kicked in. His determination was admirable even if mistimed.

    I laughed even more, chuckled a bit, snickered at him a time or two. Then I ignored him until he lost interest and disappeared.
    I may not be very smart, but what if I am?
    Stinky says, "Women should be obscene but not heard." Stinky is one smart man.
    www.humanewatch.org

  2. #2
    Don't Push My Buttons JLC's Avatar
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    Re: Bright Enough for Sunglasses

    Well, I think I'll be the first to reply in your illustrious forum.

    I loved this story, and wish I could have been there to see the look on the guy's face as you toyed with him. Too funny!

    I couldn't help but notice the ever so sly reference to one who may or may not resemble the bayonet wielding genius.
    -- Judy

  3. #3
    No One of Consequence wilomn's Avatar
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    Re: Bright Enough for Sunglasses

    Quote Originally Posted by JLC View Post

    I couldn't help but notice the ever so sly reference to one who may or may not resemble the bayonet wielding genius.
    Why, whatever do you mean? We all know there isn't a sly bone in my body.

    LOL
    I may not be very smart, but what if I am?
    Stinky says, "Women should be obscene but not heard." Stinky is one smart man.
    www.humanewatch.org

  4. #4
    BPnet Veteran stratus_020202's Avatar
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    Re: Bright Enough for Sunglasses

    I love the stories. I love the way you write them, even though sometimes I have to read them more than once.

    The black background creeps me out.....

    I hope today is just as good as yesterday was.
    "Be not afraid of greatness: some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon them." ~William Shakespeare

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  5. #5
    Registered User Blaizenj's Avatar
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    Re: Bright Enough for Sunglasses

    I agree, your stories are great and I have to sometimes read them a couple times as well, but nonetheless they are very good. It gives people a little insight as to what is going on in your mind and the things that you might be going through, maybe even teaching someone some things that might be going through the same thing as you. Good luck with your journeys and look forward to more of your stories.
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  6. #6
    Reptiles EVERYWHERE! Foschi Exotic Serpents's Avatar
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    I laughed so hard when I read HEY YA! I'm so glad I'm sitting here alone :p

  7. #7
    BPnet Veteran llovelace's Avatar
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    Lol great story
    Check out what's available at


    "The greatness of a nation and its moral progress can be judged by the way its animals are treated." - Gandhi

  8. #8
    BPnet Veteran CatandDiallo's Avatar
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    Please write many books?


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  9. #9
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    this story is very well written. now i must search out your other stories. this had me laughing, almost to the point of crying, as i pictured the whole thing. I wonder what that guy was thinking as you were standing outside of his window!
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  10. #10
    BPnet Lifer ballpythonluvr's Avatar
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    Re: Bright Enough for Sunglasses

    Wes, you are a genius with words! This was just to good not to read. I love reading your stories.

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