Checking his blind spot

It never ceases to amaze me how some people acquire driver's licenses. I drove behind the strangest man today, and though I had to turn into my driveway, nearly stayed behind him just to see his destination. Of course, judging from his erratic movements and filthy vehicle, we might've gone to the landfill, and I might've ended up staying there. Dead. Buried.

First off, his Subaru Forester was chock full of trash. The whole back hatch was stuffed with garbage bags, Big Gulp cups and greasy Little Caesar's Pizza boxes. Stuffed. Full. Like he had shame eaten his kitchen while on the road. The road to Hell.

Second, he kept crossing his driver's side window like the power of Christ was compelling him to exorcise the demons. But really quickly, like he couldn't stop his possessed hand, with movements that generally makes you lose blood to your limbs. 

Third, while blessing his window, he kept jerking his head around from side to side, right and left and nearly 360 degrees to the other side. Thus confirming my suspicion that he was channeling Linda Blair. I don't think he vomited split pea soup, but if he had, I would not have been able to tell the difference between the backseat trash. 

I hope he turned out okay. I hope his head doesn't hurt tomorrow like he just rallied at a Def Leppard concert.