Fine Lines

Early one morning last week a 'near incident' highlighted the fine line between humour and horror.

Texas Highway 181 is a divided four lane and every month the traffic gets heavier. It gets heavier but hasn't reached the point where the extra weight slows it down.

I monitor my speed and run the 65 mph night time limit or the 70 mph daytime limit as appropriate. I get passed by more cars than I pass myself.

It's fertile ground for Numerous police jurisdictions.

About 6 a.m. that morning traffic was bunched up pretty tight and running at usual speeds. At the gas station I noticed a Mustang backing toward the highway with no lights on. Just backing across the parking lot.

At this point I'm wondering aloud, "What is this idiot doing?"

All of this happened fairly quickly.

The Mustang stopped on the highway shoulder.

It was then I saw a man jump from his pick-up and run towards the car.

Immediately followed by a woman running from inside the store.

The Mustang was a runaway.

At that point, it was funny. (That's a personal phobia of mine, the Dodge slipping out of gear and overcoming the parking brake to roll into something.)

Had it rolled another three feet... it could have easily collected a dozen vehicles.

Thankfully, the runaway Pony didn't cross that fine line.