Crash

As your driving south down interstate 255 in Illinois, you just happened to look into the mirror and noticed all your features that your previous girlfriends have enjoy. Short blonde cropped hair, sharp jaw line, and bright shining baby blue eyes. You think to yourself.

“Damn, and that is just my facial feature,” you laugh out loud. You have always had an athletic-built, 6 foot even, only 185 lbs, some of your buddies once told you if you born in a different era. Someone would think you belong to the Aryan race. However, things couldn’t get any better for you in this day of age. Your Mark Ruyle 25, still single, however still looking, just couldn’t keep a girl long enough. They were always jealous of the other girls staring at you and handing you their phone number. Looking down at your phone you, glance over three phone numbers you been planning on calling since you just received them last night. Hmm there is Heather, 34 DD, blonde with the ponytails, Jesse 24 B redhead, and then there was other blonde, Tory who, just by the look of her outfits you couldn’t judge the size of her breast. You plan on calling one of them but which one.

Unfortunately, you look up just in time to see a semi trailer jackknife in front of you and a pile-up start. Several cars smash into the side and back of the semi, you try quickly get to the outside lane. But in front of you is a flipped car and you drive across it, sending you flipping into the on coming traffic. An incoming car narrowly misses you and you end up in the service lane of the oncoming traffic. You climb out of your car realizing you’re still alive with only a minor head injury. Your staring at the massacre that is unfolding on the South bound lane. Cars continue to pile up. Over the next few minutes you see dozen of people trying to get out of their car and the sounds of sirens fill the area.

A cop pulls up to you and jumps out seeing your wrecked car, “damn” you hear him saw but his lips didn’t move.

“Were you involved in that?” asked the cop.

“Yes” and you told him your story. The cop stares at you and you hear, lucky son of a bitch. “Excuse me,” you say.

The cop looks at you for a moment and decides to radio you in for medical help, but you brush him off. “I’ll get home fine,” you say as you reach into your mangled car and grabbing your phone and your coat.

The officer looks at you then the scene, and decided to let you be and goes and joins the chaos. You look around and decided to call one of the girls and get some help.