Guest Written by James Trauben
James Trauben graduated from CSU Chico armed with a Bachelor’s in History and a brain full of trivia. He has recently been unleashed upon the world of technical writing
You’re out for a drive Monday night, looking to take in a movie and maybe stop by the grocery store. You’re beginning to get a little sick of that one jerk that doesn’t seem to have figured out that stoplights are for stopping and the lines on the road indicate lanes as opposed to broad suggestions.
Suddenly bullets start flying. You don’t even bother trying to call the police- it’s not as if they’re supposed to stop crime. Instead, perhaps because you currently live in a city with more daily gunfights than Somalia, you lean back in your seat, tune in to the wacky radio personality, and watch as the jerk with the perpetual scowl ventilates the colorful, themed gang members idly trying to kill him in new and interesting ways.
Hey, maybe he’s not so bad, you think. Or, well, you start to, but then he turns around, kicks open your car door, drags you out kicking and screaming, and then drives off because he liked the color of your truck a bit better than that of his battered, smoldering sedan. You’re left confused, annoyed, and resolving that you will walk back and forth more vehemently than ever before to display that you’ve had it with scruffy dubiously-legal twenty-somethings unburdened by moral scruples with the best lawyers money can buy!
Then, evidently deciding that driving on the street is for wimps, he nearly runs over you and careens into a nearby house, crumpling your brand-new car. Read On