Christine And The Wraith of Virginia Manor Road � � � Saturday, Apr. 05, 2003 * 21:53

Please don't anyone let me drive anywhere at night when I have a migraine. Ever again. Never, ever. Just someone stop me, for Pete and Pete's sake.

I didn't really go anywhere special. I couldn't find anything to do so I drove to Quizno's and had a honeymustardchickensandwich and I asked for no bacon but their idea of no bacon was to leave it piled on the bottom of the basket and all over my sandwich in little bits. After that excitement, I decided to drive down Cherry Hill Road and see what was up. Bad idea, because even though the speed limit is like 40, the person behind me wanted to go 60. I thought our cars were going to become connected at one point. At some far-flung place I found myself in a right turn only lane so I dutifully turned right and went back the other way on Cherry Hill. I decided to go to Linens 'N Things to get a paper towel rack, because I wanted one and it smells good in that store. I went inside at 9pm (they close at 9:30) and realized I had forgotten my purse, so I walked back out and found the security guard was shadowing me. I probably looked suspicious. I got my purse, went inside, walked around the store 6 times and got sidetracked by the pretty mosquito net/pretty canopy/ drapey thingeys for over one's bed, and picked one up. I finally found the paper towel racks and got one of those too. I went to pay for them and was helped by The Woman With The Lazy Eye Who Thought She Was Too Hot Shit To Talk To Me, so I threw my money at her rudely and she crumpled up my receipt and handed it to me in a little ball and I told her "Put it in the bag, woman." I left there and proceeded to drive past on my way to Sunnyside, only to notice that my boss's car was parked outside. What's up with that? Maybe I shouldn't ask questions.

Once I got to Kenilworth and turned left , I ended up behind an ancient Cadillac with no lights on going 5, count them 5, miles an hour. I flashed my high beams at the guy several times but he only kept slowing down. He got going for a while but soon ground to a complete halt in the middle of the lane. There were about a million cars backed up behind us now. I went past him and looked in his car and he had his head on the steering wheel. Now, what's up with that?

I decided to see what happened at the end of Kenilworth and thus drove down there. What I found was that it turns all kinds of different road names and ends in a residential development where a totally hot guy was looking under the hood of his car. I turned around to go back and get a look to see if he had a butt of granite like Legolas, but the whole scene was gone. Like he had just vanished. Then my migraine started to come on. Oh great, I thought, just what I need. But I ignored it like a stupid moron and turned onto Muirkirk to see what was shakin' down there. One Marc Wasserman station, check. And holy crap, a driving range! I slowed down to see if it was open (as if I could have hit a golf ball in my increasingly lightheaded condition) but it looked spooky so I drove on. Now I crossed Virginia Manor Road, and Muirkirk dead-ended in a very frightening way so I turned around and got on VA Manor. It reminded me of Greenspring Valley Road, only ickier. I was again being tailgated, so I went a little faster when I was presented with a small problem. I crapped my pants. OK, I know that's gross, but it's important to this whole story. This is not something customary that I'm used to going through so I started spazzing wholeheartedly. I was swerving all over the place in confusion so I slowed down and nearly was rear-ended by the dumbass behind me, who thankfully went around. I realized that I must quickly return home, so I sped up and looked for a place to turn around. I was cruising around a sharp curve when a figure dressed all in white stepped out into the road, albeit on the other side, but still. What the mother fucking fuck. I screamed and started freaking out hardcore while frantically looking in the side mirror. The gentleman or lady was walking down the road behind my car in a flowing white robe-like garment. Well, that was it. Holy mother of Christ. The pants-crapping continued. I really wasn't in the mood for being abducted of possessed, and my hands were shaking like a fucking wire in the breeze. I went as fast as I could and turned around at "The Town Center Business Campus," actually considering with quite a bit of seriousness breaking inside and using its bathroom. And getting away from the wraith. In dismay I realized I was going to have to pass the phantom on my way back, so I went fucking as fast as hell and didn't look anywhere but straight ahead of me. I didn't see the apparition, thank God.

Back on Muirkirk, back to Kenilworth. As rachel so accurately described what it is like to suffer a migraine after taking medication, I will refer you to her entry on it. In much the same way, I was bleary eyed as I drove down Kenilworth. Everything was so touching. The trees reached their arms out to me and the median strip looked wonderfully fluid as it glided past my car in a magical, elegant way. I sang along to Peter Gabriel's third album, bursting into tears when I saw a plane overhead. How lovely it was to be CRAP A RED LIGHT. Whew, I thought, sniffling, good thing I saw that in time. Ivy Lane kind of sneaks up on you. I stopped but nosed over the line and suddenly several dozen flashes went off around me.

Red light cameras.

All I could do was start to slide down in the seat and throw my hands up to the heavens, and the only words that came to mind, as I bemoaned my entire life, my wraith, my nauserrhea, and my headache:

Fuck, dude.