I’ve been watching Six Feet Under lately. Wonderful show. I was like 13 when it originally aired, so had no idea it existed when it was new, but by golly is it amazing. I imagine today’s six year olds will one day find out about Game of Thrones and say the same thing. I really hope today’s six year olds are not watching Game of Thrones.
Most episodes of Six Feet Under begin with a cold open. As the show is about a family’s funeral home, the cold opens are are usually about the person who will be buried that episode. The show is quite depressing in its first ten minutes. Pleasant after that.
With this show fresh in my mind and the cold opens being rather impactful, I was pretty freaked out when the passenger in the car behind me had a bloody nose that would just not end.
Today’s Tale: Drive!
The Chrysler Sebring came out of nowhere. Which is saying something, because let’s face it, Chrysler Sebrings are basically invisible cars to begin with. The sudden appearance was jarring. A little silver blur shot into the rear view mirror. I thought for sure my bumper was hitting the pavement. It did not thankfully, so this is not a story of that time I was swiped by a Chrysler Sebring. I honestly do not know how I would cope with having one of those stories.
One’s first reaction to such an abrupt and close merge is to mutter not nice words. The sun heading east bound was blinding and sitting just below the extent of the sun visor, consistently proving itself ineffective in these early autumn mornings. So I mutter to myself while wincing and instantly feel quite foolish.
I looked into the rear view mirror and expected to see someone texting or taking a”the lighting is perfect right now!” selfie. Instead I saw a driver kind of chuckling at the misfortune of his passenger. The passenger, also sitting well below the useful area of a sun visor, held a tissue to her face and it was slowly turning from white to red.
Had the driver not been laughing, it would have been an alarming situation. I thought of pulling over a lane to let them pass, shouting, “Drive, you fools!” to encourage liberal use of the gas pedal. The laughing driver helped calm some nerves though.
Bloodied noses are not usually a humorous moment though. The question of the drive was, what would bring about a humorous nose bleed? To which there is only one, obvious, answer; the passenger misjudged the distance between his head and the dashboard while thoroughly head-banging to a particularly metal tune.
The driver wanted to share a live cut of a Slayer concert he downloaded. The passenger wanted to show his appreciation of the song, and his buddy’s passion for the music, by ironically thrashing about the car. What he forgot about is the oddly limited space inside a Chrysler Sebring. Were they in the passenger’s Honda Civic, sure, jump around the cabin all willy-nilly. The Sebring has no time for tom-foolery though. The Sebring means business. The Sebring is meant for serious adult types. Serious adult types crank up the James Taylor or Coldplay, or perhaps Mumford and Sons, but only on Friday after work.
Such shenanigans are not possible in the confines of a silver Sebring and when the young man’s nose hit the dashboard as the first chorus of Raining Blood poured out of the speakers, the car sent a not so gentle reminder that it was time to be an adult and stop being an embarrassment to his parents. Things got real for a moment in that Sebring.
The driver had a good laugh though, so not every body’s morning was terrible.
Thanks for reading!
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