So I was sitting in the back seat (right side) of a 50s-era large car that
Spatch was driving. Lodder was riding shotgun. We were at a drive-in
theatre to watch a vintage movie that Spatch wanted to see.
I was there because I'd gotten off work at the back of the parking lot and
needed a ride home. As we drove toward the screen, Spatch was swerving
around looking for the optimum spot to watch the movie. At eht same time,
he and John were calmly talking about something beyond my comprehension.
Finally, he skidded in sideways and stopped just before his right-rear
door (next to me) came in contact with the driver's side fender of another
large 50s-era car. For some reason, the concept of disaster seemed to be
only an intellectual exercise to me--I wasn't worried. (Hey, it wasn't my
car.)
I told Spatch that there wasn't enough room to open the door and he said,
"Airedale your way out."
So I opened one of the doors and woke up.
--Bill
--
The World Wide Web is the hugest vanity press
in the history of the human race!
http://billwilkinson.home.mindspring.com/index.html