Working 30 miles from where I live means I get to participate the daily commute, something I'd heard a lot of griping about but never experienced until now. I don't know if this is common knowledge or not, but it turns out there are a lot of crappy drivers in Utah. I know! It was a shock to me too. Someone had to finally say it.

On my commute, I get to witness first-hand what mankind, that sparkling pinnacle of evolution, is capable of when behind the wheel of several thousand pounds of rapidly moving steel and glass. The following near-death experience just happened last week, and is in no way embellished or exaggerated:

The driver of a truck towing a giant horse trailer apparently didn't think it was worth bothering to make sure the trailer was attached properly when he started out that morning. I was 15 feet from this conscientious individual when the trailer attachment popped off the hitch at 70 mph and started digging a furrow in the asphalt. This sent off a ten-foot high shower of sparks and metal chips that peppered my paint and windshield while the trailer swayed ominously back and forth, held only by the safety chain. Adrenaline surging through my veins, I swerved into the carpool lane and sped around the disaster, watching in my rear view mirror to see if the driver could slow down and pull over before the trailer flipped (he did). My windshield and fender are now cratered with a series of cracks and chips, but frankly I'm just grateful to be alive.

I briefly considered going back and demanding his insurance information, but something told me that the kind of people who tow giant, scary horse trailers are often the kind of people who carry giant, scary guns. It was already clearly not this dude's day, and I decided I didn't want to see myself on the six o'clock news.

Perhaps in the future I'll share with you the terrifying, too true tale of the tailgating, texting teenage girl...