The Fly Witnesses a Hit-And-Run
Remember that diversity class that I had so much trouble with? Today it actually came in handy. It gave me an opportunity to identify the perpetrator of a hit-and-run automobile collision. Have a seat, wankers; this one's worth reading.
After I got out of my math class (which isn't as lousy as I thought it was going to be), I got a voice message from my buddy Matt saying that the two of us should have lunch. Matt and I eventually met up, and wound up tailgating it on the tailgate of my '89 Blazer. We had an extensive and in-depth conversation about many things, which Matt can write about on his own blog if he so desires.
As we were sitting there, one of the guys from the aforementioned diversity class, who never spoke a word the entire term, parked a couple of spaces down from me. He never acknowledged me, which isn't that surprising since we'd never spoken before. He walked away, and I didn't pay him any mind. At some point later, he came back, and got back into his blue Nissan pickup. He proceeded to pull out of his parking space and back into a white Pontiac Bonneville SE. He sort of looked over his shoulder, glanced at Matt and I, and then... You guessed it. He drove right off.
Once we saw that he was driving off, I immediately scoped out his license plate number and procured a blank note card from my rucksack. I wrote down a description of the offending vehicle and of the damaged vehicle, and Matt and I set off on the half block journey to the Department of Public Safety. Before we got there, we saw a Public Safety vehicle and flagged it down; they, in turn, called in a state trooper, who had just driven by. Apparently, "He's new and he's looking for something to do."
Matt and I gave them the note card and all of the information they asked for, including our names, phone numbers, and driver's license numbers. The DPS officers were falling all over themselves to compliment us, because we gave them a veritable cornucopia (yes, I said it) of information. We asked the state trooper if we got a free get out of jail free card, and he said no, but that he had some "Junior Trooper" stickers; apparently we have to go to court to get those.
Eventually the lady who owned the car came back, and we told her everything. She's probably in her thirties, and lives in the same town as me. She works at a local seafood restaurant, and said that she'd give us extra fish if we came in this week. Will we do it? I have no idea.
Anyway, later on the state trooper came back (as we were still tailgating an hour later) and told us that they'd run the plate, and that it was registered to someone born in 1953 and someone born in 1963; most likely the guy's parents. He asked if we could identify him, and I said sure, no problem, so I'll likely get a call. I can't say as I have much sympathy for the guy. How stupid do you have to be to drive away from the scene of a felony hit-and-run when there are two witnesses sitting right there? Especially when it's a stupid fender bender!
Anyway, right now I'm sitting in the computer lab, but not the lab I usually go to. This lab is much smaller, and though it's the first lab I ever entered on campus all those years ago when I was part of a middle school program (must have been Summer of '95), I've spent next to no time here since it's mostly frequented by engineering students, and the only computers that us regular redneck folk can use are Macs. How am I on a PC, and why am I here in the first place? Well, I'd have lost ten minutes walking to the lab I normally use, and this is in the vicinity of my biology midterm, which I'll leave for in a few minutes. And how am I on a PC, instead of a stupid Mac? Last term I took Computer Science 101, which means that I have an Engineering Department account. Apparently the account lasts for one term past your Computer Science 101 experience; that term just happens to be this, my last term. I rule.
Now, congratulate me on being an upstanding citizen. I deserve it.
Thus Saith The Fly.
After I got out of my math class (which isn't as lousy as I thought it was going to be), I got a voice message from my buddy Matt saying that the two of us should have lunch. Matt and I eventually met up, and wound up tailgating it on the tailgate of my '89 Blazer. We had an extensive and in-depth conversation about many things, which Matt can write about on his own blog if he so desires.
As we were sitting there, one of the guys from the aforementioned diversity class, who never spoke a word the entire term, parked a couple of spaces down from me. He never acknowledged me, which isn't that surprising since we'd never spoken before. He walked away, and I didn't pay him any mind. At some point later, he came back, and got back into his blue Nissan pickup. He proceeded to pull out of his parking space and back into a white Pontiac Bonneville SE. He sort of looked over his shoulder, glanced at Matt and I, and then... You guessed it. He drove right off.
Once we saw that he was driving off, I immediately scoped out his license plate number and procured a blank note card from my rucksack. I wrote down a description of the offending vehicle and of the damaged vehicle, and Matt and I set off on the half block journey to the Department of Public Safety. Before we got there, we saw a Public Safety vehicle and flagged it down; they, in turn, called in a state trooper, who had just driven by. Apparently, "He's new and he's looking for something to do."
Matt and I gave them the note card and all of the information they asked for, including our names, phone numbers, and driver's license numbers. The DPS officers were falling all over themselves to compliment us, because we gave them a veritable cornucopia (yes, I said it) of information. We asked the state trooper if we got a free get out of jail free card, and he said no, but that he had some "Junior Trooper" stickers; apparently we have to go to court to get those.
Eventually the lady who owned the car came back, and we told her everything. She's probably in her thirties, and lives in the same town as me. She works at a local seafood restaurant, and said that she'd give us extra fish if we came in this week. Will we do it? I have no idea.
Anyway, later on the state trooper came back (as we were still tailgating an hour later) and told us that they'd run the plate, and that it was registered to someone born in 1953 and someone born in 1963; most likely the guy's parents. He asked if we could identify him, and I said sure, no problem, so I'll likely get a call. I can't say as I have much sympathy for the guy. How stupid do you have to be to drive away from the scene of a felony hit-and-run when there are two witnesses sitting right there? Especially when it's a stupid fender bender!
Anyway, right now I'm sitting in the computer lab, but not the lab I usually go to. This lab is much smaller, and though it's the first lab I ever entered on campus all those years ago when I was part of a middle school program (must have been Summer of '95), I've spent next to no time here since it's mostly frequented by engineering students, and the only computers that us regular redneck folk can use are Macs. How am I on a PC, and why am I here in the first place? Well, I'd have lost ten minutes walking to the lab I normally use, and this is in the vicinity of my biology midterm, which I'll leave for in a few minutes. And how am I on a PC, instead of a stupid Mac? Last term I took Computer Science 101, which means that I have an Engineering Department account. Apparently the account lasts for one term past your Computer Science 101 experience; that term just happens to be this, my last term. I rule.
Now, congratulate me on being an upstanding citizen. I deserve it.
Thus Saith The Fly.
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