Witness to idiocy.

Look at the map.

I was behind a car on Charcot heading west. When our light turned green the other car moved into the intersection when a car coming south on Zanker ran the light and nailed her. The person who had been hit managed to move over to the curb, the idiot's car wasn't going anywhere anytime soon.

Thank Halford for voice dialing. I was onto 911 as I maneuvered around the wreck to a parking lot. The red-light runner, a SE Asain man, was out of his car and when I asked if he needed medical assistance replied "No, I'm fine." in perfect English.

The other driver wasn't so well off. Apart from the panic reaction, she was complaining of neck pain. I, along with several workers from the building at the intersection, kept her company and calmed her until the police and fire department showed up. At first, she declined an ambulance, but the FD talked sense into her.

While that was going on, I was performing as Doug Berry, Eye Witness. Since I saw the entire thing, the police really wanted my statement and contact information. No problem. I loathe red-light runners. As I was confirming my driver's license information, another officer walked up and said that the idiot was calling a friend to translate for him. Oh, really? I told both officers about speaking with the idiot earlier, and mentioned that I had been on my Bluetooth to 911 at the time. They found that interesting.

There is a special circle of Hell reserved for red-light runners.

Not sure if my role in this little drama is over. I can't imagine being called as a witness in any criminal trial, and assuming both drivers had insurance, the accident is pretty straight-forward. But I'll let you know if that changes.

The shuffle meme again.

Ganked from nobleplatypus Hit shuffle on your iPod/iTunes or mp3 player and write down the first 25 songs. No cheating or skipping songs that are shameful. That is the fun! Then tag your friends.

( Band - Song Name (Album). Drawn from my Top Rated folder, which has 806 songs in it. )

In a less-stressful part of my day.

My time-share dog has been on vacation with her owners staff for the last two weeks. Today, I was the first truck into the yard. Cally the Brainless Wonder trots up like always. The usual routine is I open the door to say hi while noting my time of arrival on my trip sheet. Not today. I opened the door and WHOMP! Sixty pounds of happy black lab who wanted her attention and wanted it now was in my lap. And face.

It took several minutes of ear rubs and back-skritches to convince her that I was in fact going to pay her the proper attention. Cally jumped out of the truck, took three steps, and flopped onto her back. Time for the belly rubs.

Or else.

It's miracle I ever load anything at that place.