In 2006 me and my Honda, a 1980 Accord, were zipping down a country road when we hit a bump in the newly paved road and the right rear tire caught the outside edge of the road putting me in a tail spin. I flew off the road, went under the barbed wire fence and slammed into a metal pole. This is the same area where I took a picture of the elks one day.
I waited in the car for twenty minutes honking my horn in increments of three, the standard SOS signal, and finally a FedEx truck materializes. I asked the two gentlemen if they would kindly go to the nearest farm house and tell the old woman who lives there that "Judy crashed her car. Please dial 911." The area is too remote for cell service. The FedEx guys wanted to do their delivery first. I insisted. They obliged.
Minutes later the hunters showed up. Then the ranch manager. Then the neighbors. Then the cops in the helicopter. You see, the old woman in the farm house has a two-way radio too. The whole ranch and most the town folk who live 25 miles down the road knew that Judy crashed her car.
I was the joke of the day. "Don't pull a Judy!" ha ha "Hey Judy, ever met a ditch you didn't love?" ho ho "Judy's a ditch divin' woman!" hee hee Small town country folk can be so mean.
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