You know, desensitization is pretty interesting...last night as I was driving home around 2:30am from Streetside Cafe, where Mike, Julie's boyfriend, was spinning, I was heading down Armitage toward the Kennedy. This driver in front of me had certainly had a few or just wasn't paying attention. The car drifted ever so slightly, and I said, "Fabulous, let's go, drunk-ass. Figure out where you're going and get there already." That's because they wanted to turn left, but picked the wrong street, forcing me to pretty much slam on the brakes to stop. Then they realized their error and continued straight to the next block. I gave the guy space this time, and he saw the next street and put on his blinker. He started to make the turn and everything looked fine. Except for that car speeding straight at him. He almost made it, and the car squealed on the brakes but to no avail. He clipped the back quarter panel and sent the car in front of me in a 180 spin. Neither car hit anything else, and nothing hit me, thankfully. I'm sure the dude in front of me was a couple sheets to the wind, and it looked as though the car that broadsided this guy was flying...I mean, he hit the guy hard enough to spin him around, and while a 5 m.p.h. crash can do some fierce damage, this seemed a lot faster.

But I kept going, and by the time I thought about stopping, I was too far away. I watched in the mirror in case there was a fire, otherwise, I'd have gone back to help. But there was no fire. And no, I wasn't even tipsy.

Am I a jerk? If so, what could I have done? Why would I want to deal with drunk idiots who shouldn't have been driving to begin with?