So this morning on my way south on the DVP around 3:40 am a large, white, creepy (they're all creepy) spider began skittering across the dashboard toward the steering wheel. Forget the size and weight differential - this isn't based in logic! I had to take care of him. As I drove I dug around for something, anything, with which to do the job and all I could find was an old, petrified Wet One. It became the murder weapon. I do admit that my driving was a bit dodgy at this juncture. I deeked into the centre lane and then over corrected a bit. I don't say this proudly.
I exited as usual at Bayview/Bloor and the second I hit Bloor Street I was surrounded by a sea of red lights. Police cars boxed me in on all sides and one officer cautiously approached my vehicle.
"How are you doing this morning?" he asked.
"Well, it looks like I'll be late for work", I said with a smile, pulling out my license.
He asked where I worked, I told him and he remarked that my driving had been "wobbly" on the DVP and he and his colleagues just wanted to make sure I hadn't been drinking. I assured him I had not, showed him the tray of Timmies and offered to show him the spider's body. He declined, wished me a good day and sent me on my way.
Am I lucky or what?
Only when I arrived in the newsroom did I realize that beside me on the seat the whole time was an open bottle of Creme De Cacao. I had used a few spoonfuls last Christmas to make a cheesecake and the bottle just sat there ever since so I was bringing it in for a colleague's bar where it might actually get used. Open booze. Suspected drunk driving. I am lucky indeed.