May 06, 2011 - Perform This Way - Part 2

So allow me to pick up the story from where I left it in my last post. Right after my awesome and epic meeting with Al Yankovic, I started my 4 hour drive home.

I was approaching Primm on the California border driving in the left lane. Suddenly there were headlights coming straight at me. A car was speeding down the wrong side of the highway in my lane. I swerved over crossing the right lane and got into the shoulder. I was so lucky that there was no one in the lane next to me. I put the car into park on the shoulder and looked in my rearview mirror to see where the car went. I saw them flipping a U-turn in the middle of the highway and start speeding back up the highway past me. They went back up the exit for Primm where I assume they found their way to the correct side of the highway.

Another car had pulled over near the entrance to the exit. I don’t know if they were also forced off the road or if they just saw me almost die. But they just sat there for a minute and then drove off. At this point I was hysterically crying because I had just almost been murdered by what was most likely a drunk driver. I got my husband on the phone and he called the police for me and was headed out to get me. I sat on the shoulder of the highway for a while with my hazards on. When it was clear no police were showing up immediately I drove my car to the couple hundred yards to the Primm exit and pulled into the gas station parking lot. It had been almost 10 minutes by this point and was on the phone with Rob making sure he told the police where my car was and where to find me.

I was sitting outside my car on the pavement, crying and asking where the police were while clutching my stomach which was in a severe amount of pain. There were 3 people getting gas, a group of kids on skateboards, and at one point two of the gas station employees that came outside to do something. Not one of these people asked if I was okay or if I needed help. They just looked at me and then tried to pretend I wasn’t there.

About another 10 minutes went by when I saw an ambulance casually cruise by. They circled around and then came back to ask if I had called them. I told them the police might have. They sat me in the ambulance and checked my vitals. Aside from hysterically crying I seemed to them to be fine. The severe pain in my mid-section did not seem to concern them and they said goodbye and left me there.

Still no police had shown up. My husband came all the way from Vegas and made it to Primm before the highway patrol showed up. It took them longer than 45 minutes to show up. Which means the drunk driver that nearly murdered me was on his way home back to California, probably putting other people in danger. I gave them the description of the car the best I could and that was that.

So now my stomach and back muscles are completely sore. I’m guessing having to swerve and slam my breaks wrenched my body pretty badly. Also my voice is half gone from all the crying I was doing. Yes, when someone tries to murder me it makes me cry.

I’m just glad the trip wasn’t a complete bust and that Al Yankovic made it worth almost being killed.