Eyes on the road, please.

Yesterday I had to have my car towed (new cars dying are the thorn in my side), and I was sitting up with the tow truck driver, when he decided he was going to tell me his entire life story. Which included pauses that I could pretty much time, and knew would be met with full eye contact. When those eyes needed to be on the road. Tell me later? Write it up and e-mail it to me please? I don't want to die because you were married four times and felt the need to describe each marriage to me in full detail.

We were on a stretch of highway that had one lane (the slow lane?) that was in a hurt for some new surface paving. Of course that was during Story About Nutjob Wife #2 Who Always Smelled Like Cinnamon Cookies, but I couldn't hear much over the bumpbumpbump that made both of us (well, me mostly) look like we were galloping down the freeway on horseback. Ohuhhh reAAlly? CinUHHHHmon, huh? Good god, man.

Overheard during Prior to Start of Meeting Chit-Chat: "I haven't been to church in a fucking long time."