From my rear-view mirror I watched as an SUV swerved into my lane, right behind me, and accelerated.
My exit was less than a quarter-mile away. The SUV had about ten feet to go. There was no room for escape. I said, "Oh fuck."
Taking a closer look in my rear-view mirror, the first thing I noticed about the driver was that her eyes were closed and her head lolled back. I continued saying, "Oh fuck." like a mantra.
The rational part of my brain began presenting some very morbid calculations, like the mass of my clunker Nissan Sentra versus the mass of a full-sized SUV, the last time I had my air bag inspected (I believe the owner's manual recommends a check-up every five years), and the average competency of a driver on the freeway when her eyes are closed.
All at once, the SUV jerked, slowed down, sped up, and then began to slow down more smoothly. It was as if the driver's foot stumbled upon the brake pedal on accident. Her eyes were still closed. I had no idea what the fuck was going on.
My exit came. It led me directly into a line of about thirty cars waiting for the upcoming stoplight. I approached the back of the line, slowing down, but the SUV was right behind me, doing the same, "Am I going to stop? Maybe! Maybe not!" routine. At this point, I'm still saying, "Oh fuck."
When we were both stopped (it is a looong light) I got a good look at the SUV's driver. She was in her twenties, but it was the kind of twenties that looks more like late thirties. Super god-damned skinny. Her hair wasn't done in any fashion. It just kind of exploded from her scalp in all directions. She had bags under her eyes like you wouldn't believe. She looked like a cross between a mole man, a troll doll, and a coke-head.
And her eyes weren't actually closed. She was just squinting as if this was her first time on the surface world.
At no point did she ever look directly ahead at the road. She was constantly twisting and craning all over her car. At one point she was crouched down, with her head tilted, so only one squinting eye was peeking over the dashboard. Imagine Stevie Wonder driving an SUV and you'll be halfway to what was going on behind me.
The strangest thing was the small dog buckled up in the passenger seat. I didn't have a good enough angle, but it was definitely a dog's head peeking over the dashboard, the seatbelt was stretched across the seat, and it was only later that I wondered how and why someone buckles up a small dog into a car seat (answers!).
Even though we're all stopped at a light, the SUV still managed to buck forward a foot and then brake hard, and it's at this point that I'm utterly convinced that I'm going to get into an accident. Not on the freeway, thank god, but still an accident.
The SUV driver then fumbles something open, leans down in front of the steering wheel, and takes a big fucking snort of what I can only assume was cocaine. Maybe I didn't see the coke from my rear-view mirror, but I know what it looks like when someone takes a hit up the nose. Her Stevie Wonder impersonation was back and more aggressive than ever, weaving like crazy in her seat. She was doing nostril gymnastics to make sure it was all in there.
Of course she takes every turn that I do. She's a cocaine-fueled homing missile. This is the face of death itself: Some messed-up bitch and her dog.
If I'd continued down my regular commute any longer I'm positive that I'd be writing a much more interesting blog post, but instead I swerved my car onto a random street and accelerated the fuck away.