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From: weiss@gondor.UUCP
Newsgroups: net.flame
Subject: Re: Auto Encounters of the 3rd Kind!
Message-ID: <1672@gondor.UUCP>
Date: Mon, 15-Apr-85 15:12:15 EST
Article-I.D.: gondor.1672
Posted: Mon Apr 15 15:12:15 1985
Date-Received: Thu, 18-Apr-85 02:29:23 EST
References: <1626@decwrl.UUCP>
Organization: The Church of The SubGenius.
Lines: 48

>          (Or more of Our Man Ken's Manly Self Defense Stories)

Good story, my man.  I still beleive, though, that my car itself is my
best weapon.  Illustrative story:  My first car was a '72 Galaxie 500.
For those who don't know of the monster, a Galaxie falls somewhere in
between an Impala and a Sherman Tank.  One bright day on the highway, I
was zipping along and this guy in a corvette (or 'Fiberglass on Wheels")
pulls up behind me and starts flashing his highbeams and honking.  The right
lane was open, but he wanted to make me move because he had a supposedly 
better car!  Well, I simply said to myself that this man has to die.  He
must be sacrificed to the Gods of the Road.  (If you never tangled with 
Them, you just can't know.  From his tales, I know a certain Mr. Ken has met
Them and probably split a few brews with Them as well.)  So, I pull over for
Vette-man and he toodles along.  Barely 5mph faster than I was going.  I pull
in behind him and get on his bumper.  I huge Galaxie grill seen through a
read window barely bigger than my glove compartment can be a scary thing.
Mr. V takes off.  Works his way up to about 100mph, I am still right on his
bumper.  He tries hitting the brakes a few times to scare me off.  I had been 
waiting for that tactic.  One of the brakes our bumpers met.  That really 
started his skin crawling.  He was sure he had a manic on his tail.  (Well...)
Then he changes manouvers.  He pulls into the right hand lane and slows down
to 55mph.  Great, I pull in behind him and follow him for a few miles.  I can
just about see his sweat.  Now the final glory, I zoom out ahead of him and 
get about a few miles ahead.  I pull off and hid behing a trash dumpster.
I see him pass by a few minutes later about 60mph.  I tear after him like
the proverbial bat out of hell.  He flipped when I showed up on his bumper.
He pulls off at the next rest stop.  I follow him.  He parks (illegally)
right in front of the door to HoJo's.  I pull up behind him, perpendicularly,
blockling any exit.  He sits for a few minutes.  Then he slowly gets out,
staring at me.  Then I yell to him, "If you're going to be an asshole in that
thing, you better be prepared to die!  Next time you won't get a pussycat like
me!"  Then I tear off, spraying him and his plastic wonder with gravel.  
   I laughed for 2 hours.  So you see, I taught the asshole a lesson  
(hopefully) without even getting out of my car.  Obviously, if he had been some
sorta redneck with a gun rack, I woulda left out the last part, but you see
how you can deal with some people.  Also, he being a dumb jerk helped.  If 
he had just pushed his engine to the absolute limit, he might've pulled away
from me.  Oh well, I just love reliving happy times.

"Get out on the highway, headin' for adventure!"
(I think that's how it goes, it's been a long time since I've
heard my Steppenwolf tape.)

-- 
I don't practice what I preach because 
I am not the type of person I'm preaching to.

Michael S. Weiss                               BITNET:  weiss@psuvaxg.bitnet