The Ballet of Bad Decisions

Yes it's me!

Look at you! I've missed you all!

I've gotten a lot of "Is that 'Rawesome guy still around? Whatever happened to him? Is he ever coming back?"

I believe there was some speculation about a sex change in the comments of one post...

I'm sorry Imgur, I don't mean to be away so long, really I don't.

I've been working a ton, I've got an exciting side-project going. I also recently finished making a new set of bedroom furniture for Wife, just in time for Christmas. And of course there's...

It's blue... what does that mean?

Momma's due any day now. Which means I spend my days glued to my phone, Baby Go-bag packed and ready to roll.

Which means every day this week I ended up ass-deep in another crazy shots-fired-drug-slinging-fraud-counterfeit-bestiality-foot-chase-caper, I constantly worry the Red Phone is going to ring right in the middle of that mess.

**EDIT: Wife just called. Water broke. We're going to hospital Thanks for all the well wishes!***

Anyway, apparently while I've been away work stories have become a thing again. Sorry, I didn't mean to miss it. I've gotten a lot of messages asking me to come back and write another story.

If you're new and want some context, check out our previous shared adventures:
http://imgur.com/a/tQ21t

Otherwise, Let's get to it shall we?

Order up! Large helping of dumb fuck, Hot & Spicy!

I had just cleared another call where I was assisting with a perimeter on a foot chase where our urban track star became a doggy chew toy.

I was traveling southbound on a major surface street: three lanes one way,a raised median, three lanes the other way. Our protagonist enters the scene from stage left: a gold Chrysler Sebring shoots out of a strip club parking lot, flies across all three northbound lanes to make a prohibited left turn into the southbound lanes.

Our determined dunce of a driver wasn't about to let something as trivial as a "No Left Turn" sign, or a big concrete median, or my giant fucking patrol SUV directly in his path, stop him from making a 6-lane wide turn.

Fuck that guy...what? A COP? uh....YOLO?!?!

I stomped my brakes and drove partway onto the sidewalk to keep from getting hit. Danny the Dunce continues to drive on, unfettered by the heavy burden of external responsibility.

I turned on the lights and siren, having decided that a chat with the driver would be a prudent course of action. Danny continued his travels at a leisurely 30 mph to the stop light a few hundred feet south. He hung a right, and continued.

"Well that's nice that he'd want to get off the main road." I thought "Awful thoughtful of him, seein' how he just tried to kill me." The Chrysler took it's next left onto a residential street. We were very much in the "Urban Grid": straight streets, intersections every block, stop signs every two blocks.

Like ZOINKS Scoob, we gotta skiddaddle!

That's when Danny hammered the gas and disappeared down the street in a cloud of dust and red tail lights. The street was littered with dips. He was flying south at over 70mph, tail lights shrinking into the distance.

"Nope." I said out loud, coming to an immediate stop and shutting off my lights. I wasn't about to get drug into this cage match of stupid, just to get beat by experience. I grabbed my radio and called out the information:

"[Radio number] I just had a car take off from me. Gold Chrysler, temp tag in the back window, last seen southbound on [Street]".

I watched the tail lights bounce up and down as the vehicle continued to fly over the dips and bumps in excess of 70 mph, despite no one chasing them.

And then the tail lights did a funny thing: They started bouncing up and down, and started shaking side to side and then- POOF! They hung a right and were gone. Did they make it?

Spoiler alert: No.

Seat belts are good, Mmmkay?

No, they didn't make it. It wasn't even fucking close.

This punchy little car and driver full of spit and spirit managed to clip a parked car which sent them off course. Danny over corrected sending him into a highway speed power-slide. The front driver's side wheel *just* clipped the curb, which launched the car into the air sideways.

I give the hang time a solid 7.4 because there wasn't a tire track in the entire intersection. They cleared that bitch-airborne!

The judges deducted some points when they failed to stick the landing though: the car skipped across the front yard upside down, like a stone across a lake - before BOUNCING off of the front of this house, and laying there - on it's lid.

(Every once in a while, life reaches down and gives you a big High Five: I was abe to see this beautiful ballet over and over and over in slow motion, in glorious 1080p, because the homeowner had wonderful security footage; from two angles!)

Is she OK?

I could tell from my vantage point of several blocks away that the getaway had gone awry. So I gave it about 45 seconds to let my car GPS log the fact that I had stopped, and was not in fact chasing the Lawn Dart, and then I started toward the inevitable.

As I arrived and found the wadded up remnants that moments ago had been a functioning automobile; I could see a female passenger laying partially ejected in the yard. I immediately called for Fire and EMS for extrication.

There were already a half dozen people milling around the scene, most of them on their phones with 9-1-1. My favorite was Stupid Samaritan. He had his cell phone pinned between his ear and shoulder, yelling into his phone about needing the cops "right now!" while yanking on this girl's leg with both hands, trying to drag her out of the crushed car.

"HEY I THINK SHE'S DEAD!" he yells at me, as I stand less than four feet before him. "HELP HER!"
"Hang up the phone." I said to him softly, trying to calm him.
"BUT IT'S 9-1-1!" he screams again
"Yeah. Got it.But they send the cops, and well... the cops are already here." I said, jerking both thumbs at my chest (Ok, I know it was a douchey gesture. But c'mon - ONE of us was jerking on a dead girls' leg! ) "Besides - she's stuck in that car - and pulling her leg ain't going to make her less dead." I told him.

Officer... I think I'm bleeding...

From inside the car I hear a gut wrenching scream, and then a female voice howl: "I ain't fuckin' dead, but my fucking leg is broke!" Stupid Samaritan immediately drops the ankle he'd been holding on to, and her leg assumes a beautiful lower-case-"S" shape.

Fire and EMS arrive and immediately go about cutting the three Pavement Pole Vaulters from their crumbled cage.

They get Danny the Dumbass Driver out first. He walks toward me, eyes bright white against a curtain of red on his face. "Um...Officer... I think I might be bleeding."

Do you know what your skull looks like? Because I do.

From Danny's left eyebrow to behind his left ear was the brilliant shining white line of his skull. Danny hadn't been wearing his seat belt either. Why interrupt this train of monumentally moronic decisions mid-ride?

WOOOOOooo WOOOOOOOoooo. All aboard the asshole train!

Sometime during their ill fated flight, Danny's head had smashed into the steering wheel like a rotten pumpkin on a curb.
"What happened?" I asked.
"I left the strip club... and then I uh... I was upside down." he postulated.
"You left out a few details, like where you almost hit me, and then ran from the cops."
"Nooooo..." Danny began his protest.
"-Yeaaaaah. I saw you." I insisted.
"Sorry...I was...drink- I'm drunk." Danny mumbled out.
This is my shocked face.

There were enough empty and partially full Bud Light beer bottles littering the yard and the inside of the car to pass for an overturned delivery truck.

I guess you could say Danny had a ...

failure to launch.

YYYYYEEEAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!

(I'm not even sorry.)

Safety First

Later at the hospital, I learned that the female passenger had a shattered femur. Danny had a bunch of scalp lacerations. Have you ever wondered what 100 staples in your scalp feels like? Yeah, Me either. But Danny did the research!

But then there was Safety Steve. I had found Steve sitting cross-legged inside the vehicle - looking, for the most part, unruffled, aside from sitting on the headliner of an overturned car. But when you're the only one sitting, and everyone else is sprawled out like they jumped from the 3rd floor, you look pretty dapper. Context is everything.

I talked to Steve later at the hospital:
"Was your buddy driving?" I asked.
"I dunno man... I can't say. I can tell you I know that I wasn't driving... and she wasn't driving... if you get my drift..." he said. I got his drift. Nobody wants to labeled a snitch, even if we're only playing the semantics game.
"Did your buddy almost hit a cop?" I asked
"Oh fuck yeah. That shit was crazy." Steve proudly exclaims "That's when I put on my seat belt!"
Misdemeanor or Felony: Safety First Ladies and Gentlemen.

Not many strip clubs in prison.

Danny is in for an adjustment.

One of my buddies asked me later: "How badly was she hurt? Is her stripping career over?"
I laughed and said: "One of her legs is shorter than the other now. But her career was over before it began. She looked more like the Bouncer."

Hope you all enjoyed it. My next story may be a few months off, or just a few days. It's all going to depend on how busy my new Tiny Unemployed Roommate keeps me.

If I can be of help, always feel free to send me a PM. Be gentle, I answer them all, but sometimes it takes a little time.

And as always - End with Swag.

Take care of each other.
Have a great Holiday.
Thanks for reading!

Story index: http://imgur.com/a/tQ21t