TL;DR: Do not drive drunk. DO NOT DO IT.
We can't watch Game of Thrones yet because it's not dark enough out, so I'm satisfying my Internet urge by telling this story instead. Paul and I now live in a city further south of L.A. in Orange County, and it is extremely quiet and peaceful.
Last night around 3:30am, I was wide awake, and I heard a car collision outside. It sounded weird, though, Not so much metal screaming on metal but more of a "THWUMP" quality, followed by a strange roaring sound. I grabbed my phone and ran outside, and what I saw about five houses down was this:
That is a car driven by a drunken pusbucket who took the turn at such speed, he killed a mailbox and fire hydrant (that's a 35-foot geyser, the source of the roaring) and was still going so fast he crumpled his front end when he hit the house and destroyed the garage. AMAZINGLY (and for which I am still so thankful), nobody was hurt. Sadly, that includes the driver. The street was ankle-deep in water almost immediately.
I didn't take that photo at the time, of course. I was the first one out on the street and I saw the driver out of the car and staring at it, before he turned and ran faster than I have ever seen a drunk move, towards me but on the other side of the street, crying "ohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygod" as he went. I had no time to do anything but make sure I had a good look before he turned, then called 911, reported the collision, and described the guy.
Apparently some new neighbors were having a housewarming party and this guy they didn't know (this was what they said anyway) was being so loud someone called in a noise complaint. So they asked him to either take a cab or sleep in his car. And instead he did this. Which, if they really did everything they could to stop this asshole stranger, still sucks for them because as I understand it, they're liable if they served him. The couple who own or rent the house are very sweet and quiet, and they were supposed to be heading on vacation in a few hours.
I stayed there and gave my story to the cops -- who were the calmest, politest, friendliest, funniest cops I have ever encountered, especially in an emergency -- and not too long after they found the guy. Couldn't have been that hard, dude in a white shirt running his ass off around a sleepy suburb. I confirmed to the cops that he was the one I saw. Sitting on the curb eavesdropping on this waste of splooge justify himself to the cops was definitely the funniest part of the night.
When Paul and I finally went back to our house at around 5am they were putting him in a cop car right in front. One of the cops smiled and cheerfully said "Have a good night -- well, morning!"
We can't watch Game of Thrones yet because it's not dark enough out, so I'm satisfying my Internet urge by telling this story instead. Paul and I now live in a city further south of L.A. in Orange County, and it is extremely quiet and peaceful.
Last night around 3:30am, I was wide awake, and I heard a car collision outside. It sounded weird, though, Not so much metal screaming on metal but more of a "THWUMP" quality, followed by a strange roaring sound. I grabbed my phone and ran outside, and what I saw about five houses down was this:
That is a car driven by a drunken pusbucket who took the turn at such speed, he killed a mailbox and fire hydrant (that's a 35-foot geyser, the source of the roaring) and was still going so fast he crumpled his front end when he hit the house and destroyed the garage. AMAZINGLY (and for which I am still so thankful), nobody was hurt. Sadly, that includes the driver. The street was ankle-deep in water almost immediately.
I didn't take that photo at the time, of course. I was the first one out on the street and I saw the driver out of the car and staring at it, before he turned and ran faster than I have ever seen a drunk move, towards me but on the other side of the street, crying "ohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygod" as he went. I had no time to do anything but make sure I had a good look before he turned, then called 911, reported the collision, and described the guy.
Apparently some new neighbors were having a housewarming party and this guy they didn't know (this was what they said anyway) was being so loud someone called in a noise complaint. So they asked him to either take a cab or sleep in his car. And instead he did this. Which, if they really did everything they could to stop this asshole stranger, still sucks for them because as I understand it, they're liable if they served him. The couple who own or rent the house are very sweet and quiet, and they were supposed to be heading on vacation in a few hours.
I stayed there and gave my story to the cops -- who were the calmest, politest, friendliest, funniest cops I have ever encountered, especially in an emergency -- and not too long after they found the guy. Couldn't have been that hard, dude in a white shirt running his ass off around a sleepy suburb. I confirmed to the cops that he was the one I saw. Sitting on the curb eavesdropping on this waste of splooge justify himself to the cops was definitely the funniest part of the night.
When Paul and I finally went back to our house at around 5am they were putting him in a cop car right in front. One of the cops smiled and cheerfully said "Have a good night -- well, morning!"
