TUESDAY: I had done this so many times before; feet planted firmly on the ground, legs squatting preparing for air-time, the force from my glutes drives down my thighs to my calves approaching lift off. POP! The energy blasts through my right foot, I leave the ground momentarily... Then crash to the floor bouncing against the bed's foot-board, I reach for my left leg, clinching my teeth, as I look around the room. Someone hit me. I felt it. With the force of today's "swollen headed" home run hitters, someone hit me with a 2x4 on the back of my left ankle.
Wait... Let me start at the beginning. It's 7:20 in the morning on Tuesday, I know I'm going to be late for work. As I approach Ben White on I35 I notice that there aren't any cars in the slow lane, I merge over and quickly get up to 70 MPH. Still, no one is in the slow lane but me, while the inside and center lanes are crawling I am picking up speed. In the center lane, ahead of me there is an 18-wheeler with a Styrofoam green Ford Focus planted in it's ass. I drive closer cautiously knowing how fools drive, but I am too close for the Focus try and jump in front of me, not only that... It's too close behind the 18-wheeler to gain enough speed to make that jump quickly enough. I'm still cruising at 70 MPH, when all of sudden I am forced to squeeze the brakes, the Styrofoam green machine limps over, right in front of me. I'm pretty annoyed, I hate that shit. My first thought was "light this bitch up" (Flash'em), but the better of me quickly vetoed that and I let them be. It was gonna be a better day than that.
We make our way over Ben White, traffic thickens and all lanes slow to a crawl. From the slow lane I along with the "green machine" make our way to the center lane, not long after, the Focus hops into the inside lane. The center lane now begins, briefly, it's turn to move through traffic but the glow of red quickly follows, just then the our villain attempts it's second "fuck you" to DY, my brakes are already pressed as I'm anticipating normal traffic, but the green machine has now taken the space I had available for stopping. I try to stop NOW, but that Styrofoam green piece of mutha-fuckin-shit gets popped by Heidi (that's my car's name). Ain't that a bitch?! I had just gotten notice that due to my safe driving, my insurance lowered my deductible by $100 and I was also going to see a significant decrease in my rates for the next term. There goes that, everyone knows that you're to blame when you hit someone.
Or so I thought, I talked my insurance guy and he said... Not in Texas, there is 99.9% that you are to blame, but the case will be reviewed and evaluated to determine who is to blame. I gave him the details of the incident and he agreed that the other driver should be at fault in this collision. [Wednesday] As I am on my way to get my MRI done on my left leg I receive a call from the claimant's insurance company... After review of the stories and assessment of our vehicles, I am not to blame and the claim against me is dropped. Woo Hoo!
I lay there gripping my leg, teeth clenched, face full of pain, knowing in the back of my mind what happened when I heard that pop and was struck in the back of my leg with the fury of Barry Bonds, Jose Canseco & Mark McGuire. I crawl up to the bed, embarrassed and angered, cursing aloud to myself while thinking "this can't be happening". In disbelief I know that there are only so many things this could be, but it wasn't gonna be me...
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