Hypothetically

Lets say I was taking the plastic off the windshield of my car–that I may or may not have put on last night in preparation of an ice storm.

And then lets say that from behind me came the sound of screaming metal, and the pow pow pow of three tires blowing out.

And perhaps, I ran to the cross street to see if anyone was hurt. And then, yes I’ll admit it, started laughing along with the driver of an SUV who had just taken out an entire traffic circle, and four signs.

Said driver may or may not have copped a feel as he grabbed me and jumped us out of the way as another SUV came barreling down the hill. It may or may not have tried to stop, and then might–I say might–have smacked into the back first SUV. This may or may not have been very James Bondish of him, and had my heart racing as he laid on top of me.

(And I may or may not have already gone through several wonderful fantasies–about our exciting life together, the color of our kid’s hair, and the several interesting places we would have conceived them in–by the time he got off of me, and held his hand out to help me up; wedding ring flashing in the dull light. CRAP! Oh well.)

A heated argument might have ensued, where the second SUV driver–soccer mom extraordinaire, and expert 911 caller–tried to blame the entire would-be accident on my ex-future-ex-husband, as said ex-ex and I laughed at her until she got so red I thought that she would pop.

Sometime after my not main-man and I walked away from the bouncing gremlin of a woman, the cops showed up. I mean, they did arrive, but here’s where things get a bit hazy…

I’m sure that they pulled over, after starting to slow down well in advance of the accident, clearly in the middle of the road from them. And, again, It’s not like these cops were as sure of themselves as the two SUV drivers, and didn’t, again, hit the same patch of ice that the SUV’s did. I’m also fairly sure that said cop didn’t careen into the back of the second SUV, doing a pretty good impression of a spatula to the SUV’s piece of toast.

All I know is that the first driver–whose name was Dave, by the way– and I looked at each other after some kind of farce that I can’t quite remember, and then slowly sank down onto the curb, soaking our clothes and we laughed ourselves sick.

I had to walk back to my house, re-apply my makeup, and change my clothes before I could go to work.

All in all, it was a great morning.