Yesterday, as I drove out of the parking lot at work and joined the first line of like minded four wheelers in the quest for a dinner table, I did something that cannot possibly be described as anything less than The Stupidest Thing EverEverEver. (pretty cool technical jargon huh).
See, my little honda has a dash shelf... you know, a space below the odometer that you can toss a pen and yer ... er... sunglasses. A very useful space... normally.
Alrighty, so I'm in-the-turn... you with me here? streering wheel fully rotated to the left to make a 90 degree turn.... and blam... brilliant sunlight catches me.
No problemo... because my handy dandy dash-shelf is currently being employed to play host to my sunglasses. I reach through the stearing wheel spacers to grab em.
How we doing so far... have you noted the exceptionally stupid thing yet? it's happened... right there in the last paragraph.
We're talking upper crust of stupid here... like in the nobel prize class of dumb. You saw it didn't ya...
Indeed... it was the reaching through part.
Why? you might ask why... but then again, you might also staple your arm regularly too, so your questions are hardly important.
Never the less, I started this so I'll finish it.
Let's start part two of this story... the explanation phase , by giving it a title... (that was it... the title... "explanation phase")
We could have called it Why my forarm is so sore.
Ok, here we go...
When you are half way through a 90 degree turn to the left you are a mere split second away from bringing your steering wheel back from all those rotations to the left.
If your arm is through the streering wheel when these rotations begin you are recreating a circumstance not entirely different from ramming a steel bar through the spokes of a motorcycle as it rolls past you... although my steering wheel has far fewer spokes than a cool motocycle wheel and, while I am quite manly in my own special way, not a whole lot of people mistake my arm for a steel bar. So maybe it's a lot different. Whatever.
The point is that the steering wheel did in fact want to do a bunch of turning to the right to straighten out the turn and it was inhibited in this process by the presence of my "steel bar" arm that was now busy releasing it's hand grip on the sunglasses.
Get this picture in your mind... little blue honda, arm wedged to the point of almost breaking in a stearing wheel... streaming sunlight lighting up my face - including the gaping black hole of my screaming mouth... as my not-so-much-like-steel-arm (more like a spongy baseball bat) refused to simply snap in half. The upshot of all this is that the wheel turned back to the left... turning my 90 degree left turn into a 135 degree turn to the left.
It's about here in the story that I should talk about the Staples Business Depot delivery truck that was approaching in the lane normally reserved for oncoming traffic on this road. This lane was now being used not only for oncomming traffic but also for screaming dumb asses stuck in their steering wheels.
Everything about this story ends with the sound of screaching breaks, shaking heads and my cat like reflexes disentagling myself from the steering column and doing my level best, and failing misserabley (btw) to look like I meant to do that.
Todays lesson: Handy Dandy Shelf Dash's are excellent sunglasses holders... However, do not access them by reaching through the steering wheel... evva!
Ok.. time to go ... see ya tonight...
oh... the sun is shining... wonders where his sunglasses are....