A close call....

As I described in this post, I sometimes over-react. But, Jake RARELY does. Wait, he NEVER does. EVEREVEREVEREVER. That is, until Saturday.

We were going out to dinner for a good friend's birthday. We had just left the party of another good friend, celebrating his birthday.

We had a few drinks and weren't tipsy, or drunk...but, we were warm.

I was driving. Jake has a pretty gnarly sprained ankle (that can now accurately be described as a cankle), and was shifting and twisting in his seat, trying to get comfortable.

Then, we heard it. A very loud...

P-SHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

I said, "Dear Jesus...what is that sound? Is it the car? What the hell is it?"

Jake replied, "I don't know what that is. It's so loud."

I reach over and turn off the A/C to rule that out.

It persisted. Even. Steady. Loud as fuck...

P-SHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

"It's not the A/C...what the hell is going on?"

Jake says, "I don't know. Damn...it must be the car. It sounds really bad. That's a really bad leak."

I reach down and turn off the radio, to rule that out.

We're still driving, and beginning to sweat. In silence. Aside from the very ominous...

P-SHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

My mind starts to race. I immediately envision a hose, broken, whipping around under the hood, spewing god knows what all over the place. I start to wonder if the brakes are going out, maybe the steering. I wonder if the fucking car is about to fucking explode! Now, I'm scared. What is possibly most terrifying about the whole situation is the look on Jake's face...HE'S SCARED.

WTF??? He's never scared. He never loses his cool. He's always calm and collected...and now he's scared. This has to be bad...really bad.

I start to panic, just a tad, and frantically say, "JAKE, WHAT IS IT? WHAT IS THAT NOISE? WHAT DO WE DO? WHERE DO I PULL OVER? BABY, DO SOMETHING!!!"

Mirroring my tone, and making the situation even more terrifying, The One, who NEVER over-reacts, not even a little bit, looks at me with eyes as wide as saucers and fear in his voice, and says, "I DON'T KNOW. I DON'T KNOW. I DON'T KNOW. FUCK! PULL OVER, PULL OVER NOW. I HEARD THIS NOISE THE OTHER DAY WHEN I GOT IN THE CAR. FUCK! I KNEW I SHOULDA CHECKED IT OUT...FUCK. PULL OVER. WHAT...WHAT IS THAT SMELL? DO YOU SMELL IT? IT SMELLS TOXIC."

OH.DEAR.GAWD. There's a smell now!! This is definitely bad. But, I don't smell it. I just hear it...

P-SHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Jake says, "DAMN...that smell is really strong, babe. It's a chemical. Hurry up and stop, so we can get out of the car. That's strong...you don't smell it?"

It's freaking me out that he's so worried.

My heart is quickening, and just as I'm approaching a turn off, to pull over, the smell...

Man, it's definitely chemical. Fuck, it IS strong. I can taste it. It's...it's...familiar. It's almost...fruity? What? It's like...it's....

A revelation.

"Move your leg off of my makeup bag, you fucker...IT'S MY HAIRSPRAY!!"

The fear drains from Jake's face, "Oh. WHEW! I thought we were goners."