Friday, October 28, 2005

Tiffy the deer slayer

It was about two years ago that I was driving down a two lane highway and rammed what was still a cute car into a deer. My driving skills have been criticized by many. Even taking one person, who shall remain nameless ...(jenny,) to the point of saying " I like riding with you. I feel closer to Jesus." Okay that might not be verbatim, but it is the gist. I assure you this particular collision was the suicidal deer's fault, not my own. It was hit by a truck fell into the ditch and then when it saw my car got back up and crossed the street just in enough time to jack up my hood, fender, back passenger side door (it flung it's legs into the car, I am guessing not on purpose), and make my left headlight completely useless. Hold on the story is about to get really good. So I call my dad who is at my uncles house about 15 minutes away. I call the cops. In the meantime the driver of the truck who hit the deer first walks up to my car. Remember, dark, 2 lane highway at night. I am the most paranoid CSI, Rescue 911, Unsolved Mysteries watching freak. I assume this man is going take me for all that I am worth (which at that time was about 300 CDs) and leave me cold, wet, and sliced into a million pieces. He doesn't. He does tell me his friend lives a couple blocks away if I want to come over. I decline. I know what happens to girls who go over to stranger's houses. They die, they always die...Man I watch way to much CSI. The cop shows up and I am riding around in the back of a cop car looking for the deer when my dad and uncle show up in a very large truck with the license tag DRSLYR...(deer slayer.) They get out of the truck. My uncle is in those pants made out of plastic that come up to your arm pits and are held up by suspenders. He is holding a mag light and promptly frolics into the ditch like a leprechaun on no-doz trying to find my "catch." My dad wants me to let him in the cop car with me. I can't there are no handles on the inside. I am pretty sure the cop is completely taken off guard by the people who came to get me. My dad starts chatting him up about guns and the "proper way to shoot a deer" (One of my dad's classic stories is when he hit a deer and the officer tried to shoot it, but shot it right between the eyes. Instead of killing it he just pissed it off and the deer attacked him....different story for another time.) I am sitting there with my head out the back window listening to this banter when really I wanted to go home. Suddenly my uncle starts yelling...he'd found my "catch." I got it right in the butt so it was useless to him. I finally got to get in my car and drive home after what turned out to be a very eventful drive to the middle of nowhere.

4 comments:

Anonymous said...

Two words: deer whistles. They work.

tiffany said...

Didn't you hit a deer with the deer whistles on your car?

Anonymous said...

They were not on the car. That is why I hit it.

Anonymous said...

nothing screams "my other car is a tractor" quite like a deer whistle. yyeeeeeeehhaaaaaww. it should be noted, in fairness, that the deer was also cute before you hit it.