I got about 50 miles from Houston when some 74 year old granny decided to run me off the road with her newer and better Buick.

She wanted to be exactly where I was. She bumped me off into the median. I was having flashes of my last accident, going through the median, going into oncoming traffic . . . then I saw the retaining wall and I thought, “Great, now I’m going to run into that wall and smash my car into tiny bits.”

It’s amazing how many thoughts you can have in just a few seconds.

I (praise God) was able to stop before I smashed my car into the retaining wall and/or tiny bits.
The offending Buick kept going!
I had enough presence of mind to write down the license plate number.
Then she stopped on the other side of the road.

I sat there and recuperated for a minute. No airbag had come out, I looked at the car, just a cracked fender, dented door and messed up paint.

I got back on the road and drove over to where the other Buick had stopped.
I wondered as I got out of the car why the other driver wasn’t getting out the car.
Then I saw a handicap tag hanging on the mirror.
As I got closer I saw that it was an old lady with peachy-white hair.
She was very upset.

She kept apologizing and crying and I almost said, “Its okay.” Then I thought, ‘It’s not okay! She just ran me off the road!’ So I said, “Well, it was an accident.”
Almost immediately there was a police officer there.
Just behind her was a tow truck.
The officer took our information while the tow truck driver looked at our cars.
The officer gave the old woman a ticket, the tow truck driver said our cars were both okay to drive.

That whole incidet just added to my bad day.

I got back in the car, and started driving.
After that I saw a police car at least once every mile for the next 20 miles. I was definitely going the speed limit by that time, so I was again shocked when the officer turned his lights on and came after me.

He was a cute little guy, and he said, “I pulled you over because you are not displaying a front license plate.”

My day was getting badder and badder.

I’ve been driving that car for four years; I’ve never had a front license plate.
As a matter of fact I had been misinformed about this law. I had been told it had been changed. But it hasn’t changed; the bill didn’t go through . . . I got a warning. I told him I didn’t have a drill to put it on (True) that the bracket I bought didn’t fit the exiting holes (True) and that the plate was in my trunk. (Nearly true) I think the plate it actually between the trunk and the back seat.

What I wanted to say was, “I don’t care! I’m selling the car and leaving the country in a matter of weeks!”

I said, “Yes, thank you officer, I’ll remember to put it on.”

Amazingly enough I made it home with out being yelled at, run off the road or stopped by the police again.