I had run about 7 miles and was on my final leg home. During my run, I always jog adjacent to the Murray cemetery. No, I don't jog through it, just beside it. My headphones were booming the sounds of the Shiny Toy Guns and I was totally zoned into outerspaceville land when I heard a loud clacking sound.
I had no idea what this sound was or where it was coming from, but it was loud. It was so loud that I could easily hear it over my blaring headphones. It was getting closer and I became rather frightened. It soon became obvious that the banging was coming from a red Honda Civic coming straight at me.
I was certain they were shooting at the very least paintballs, but perhaps something as deadly as an AK-47. I immediately ducked onto the grass of the cemetery and fell to the ground in hope that they would not see me. I listened to the car drive by, popping loud shells into the air the entire time. I was able to gather enough courage to sneak a peak as it drove down 5600 South. I quickly picked myself up and checked to see if anyone had seen my awkward display of fear. Glancing into the distance I could see that the killer death machine that had me praying for my life was actually this:
The noise, however, was not coming from simple soda cans, but from giant coffee cans tied behind the car. No wonder it was so flipping loud!
Fortunately, no one saw my pathetic, cowardly display. Nevertheless, I am blogging about the entire ordeal now, so I am not sure what the difference is.