I was walking across the parking lot, leaving work the other day, when this asshole in a work truck comes zooming by and almost runs over me. I didn't notice too much about the guy, other than he was stupid looking, but I did notice the truck. It was from the Invisible Fence Company. I called them to tell them that their drivers are inconsiderate bums, and if anyone else out there wants to call them and tell them, then feel free. And if you aren't motivated to call, then look that number up. Wait until you are just minding your own business, trying to cross the street, and some idiotic-looking mouth-breather almost runs over you. Then give them a call. I can almost guarantee you that this guy will be recklessly driving his work truck around my town for many years to come.

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Several months ago, I was driving back home from Chicago at night. Ever since I got my new glasses, I have actually been able to see at night, so driving after dark hasn't really bugged me since then. My fiancé (or "Hetero Life Partner" for short) and I were just roaring home at 70 miles per hour, minding our own business, and looking forward to getting back to a town that considers a 20 minute traffic congestion "rush hour", when up ahead, in the distance, I noticed a car with its flashers on. I turned off the cruise control, and let the engine decelerate. I was just about to change lanes and move further away from the stalled vehicle, when I saw it in the middle of the road.

It was black. I almost didn't think anything of it, because about 10 miles back, they were doing road work, and it looked very much like when they "hot patch" pot holes on the interstate. I had my blinker on, drifting into the left lane, to give the upcoming car some space, and was heading right for this thing in the middle of the road.

I was almost into the other lane, when it finally registered what this thing was. My fiancé and I knew at the same time that we were heading for a tire in roadway at 65 miles per hour.

I couldn't swerve back into my lane, for fear that I lose control and slam into the car on the shoulder. And I didn't want to swerve the other way because that stretch of road had a deep ditch in between both sides of the interstate. So I did the only thing I could. I ran right over top of it.

Years ago, I hit a deer going 45 mph. down a country road. And from what I can remember, the noise was about the same. A huge bang. Like a gunshot inside the car. All of my dashboard lights blinked off for a second, and my cd player stopped. For one excruciating second, there was the sound of dragging under my car. We could feel it. I hit the brake. The sound stopped, and everything seemed back to normal. I didn't stop. As long as this car was running, I wanted to make it back to town. I most certainly didn't want to stop on this lonely, deserted stretch of I-75. I only had a few more miles to go. Just a few more. I just ran over a tread. That's all. A tread isn't like hitting a pile of concrete blocks on the road or anything. It's what the truckers call an "alligator", but it's nowhere near that size. I've been to the zoo. I called my parents. I wanted use their driveway and garage lights to survey the damage, if any.

I pulled into their driveway, and opened the car door, still shaken up. I slowly walked to to front of my car, fully expecting there to be nothing left of the front bumper. Damn ground clearance. What we saw was really not that bad. There is a grit shield or something that got pretty torn up, and the bottom of my front bumper was snapped clean in half. But it was all seemingly cosmetic. I got back in my car, just a little more confident in my driving skill and feeling lucky.

Fast forward to yesterday. I find out that my car has a leaking oil pump, which I am convinced is only leaking because of the blunt force trauma it suffered on that night. My car did start leaking oil soon after that. The bad part is that, in order to get to this incredibly expensive part to have it replaced, you apparently have to dismantle most of the engine compartment, which is going to take a very long time, and cost a lot of money. Around $1,000.

So this problem probably won't get repaired. My mechanic said that as long as I keep oil in the engine, I should be okay, because the leak isn't that bad. I asked my father if he thought I should get this repair done. His response: "You can buy a lot of oil for $1,000."

He's right. It's a gamble I'm not willing to take. If I pour 1/3 or the value of the car into one repair, I'm gambling that nothing else is going to go wrong for quite a while. And this car does have 158,000 miles on it, so I guess the odds are against me there. All this because I was just trying to move away from a stalled vehicle on the interstate. So the moral of this story is that sometimes you are courteous with your car, and you are rewarded with irreparable damage.

And sometimes you are not courteous with your car, and get inundated with random calls from people on the internet.

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