So I'm driving on the Daniel Webster Highway the other day. I'm not sure how old Daniel would feel, with the highway named after him all cluttered up with strip malls, gas stations and discount furniture outlets, but...hey, I suppose if you get a highway named after you, you should just shut up and be grateful. Anyway, I come to the stop lights at the Barnes and Noble in Nashua. I pretty much live at Barnes and Noble because that's where I get most of my work done, so I'm stopped, waiting to make the left turn to the road that leads to the bookstore, when I see the driver's side door of the incredibly huge NEW pickup truck in front of me open. Then I see the booted foot of the driver. We are stopped, remember, so this is, to this point, a manageable life situation.
Then, however, inevitably following the foot, comes the rest of the driver, and in his grubby little mitts is a piece of paper, maybe letter size not not letter stock--perhaps a paper towel. And it is burning. Fully and indisputably BURNING. Said owner of said foot then steps out of the cab of the BIG NEW truck and places the burning piece of paper on the ground.
Have I mentioned the wind?
There's wind. A lot of it. And when the paper hits the ground, BURNING, the wind takes the paper for a ride.
So I sit there in my Nissan (not a Toyota, thank God) Sentra, watching this BURNING piece of paper as it wends its windy way UNDER MY CAR.
I start beeping my horn, figuring the idiot who put the BURNING PAPER on the ground would see what was going to happen, get out of his BIG TRUCK and stomp on the paper.
But, no...Einstein just gets back in the truck. Where nothing is BURNING. Anymore. I assume.
I start to swerve my Sentra out of the way. Swerving was absolutely called for at the moment. I watch 24. I know what happens when open flame hits gas lines. I don't feel like blowing up on the Daniel Webster Highway.
I beep and honk some more. The BURNING PAPER gets closer and closer to the front of my car. IDIOT TRUCK GUY stays in BIG TRUCK. I lose sight of the BURNING PAPER. I figure it is under my car. I begin to consider leaving my vehicle. (I have done this before, but that's a story for another time.)
Fortunately, though, the light changes, and I am able to follow the IDIOT IN THE BIG PICKUP TRUCK through the intersection before his friggin' piece of BURNING PAPER gets under my car.
I know you won't read this, IDIOT BIG PICKUP DRIVER--but did you ever consider just stomping on the paper as you placed it on the ground? Did you see my Sentra four feet from you? Do you watch 24? Were you able to afford a television after you purchased your BIG STUPID PICKUP TRUCK?
AND HOW THE HELL DID A PAPER OF THAT SIZE--OF ANY SIZE--START BURNING IN YOUR PICKUP?
The only positive thing I could take away from this, other than the fact that I didn't get blown to smithereens, is that if I had been blown to smithereens, I think I would have taken IDIOT BIG STUPID PICKUP TRUCK GUY with me.
I don't trust BIG TRUCK GUYS. Never have. I don't believe they need trucks THAT BIG.
But if you do have a BIG TRUCK, and if you do, for some reason, start a fire inside the truck, KEEP THE DAMN FIRE TO YOURSELF, OKAY?
