One day, I was driving Diabla’s Ford Explorer (her mother’s car). I had gone off to rent a movie or something. I was listening to Pearl Jam’s Elderly Woman Behind The Counter. It was raining, as was frequently the case. The roads were slick and had sand in the median. I judged my time to make a left and merge into the lane of traffic. I had to gun it a little. I gunned it in the median…in the sand…with the slickness from the rain and oil, and started to fishtail. I corrected the spin, but it was too late; I was headed directly into the drainage canal. I slammed into the ditch. I had to call Diabla from the gas station. Cops showed up. Car was wrecked. I wonder if that contributed to her mother never liking me?