got out of more than a few that in today's world no early-20s kid with a few beers in him would ever walk--or drive away from. best was probably when i was coming back from a bar about 2:30 am, dropped a smoke, landed on a greasy rag on the passenger floor and that went up quite nicely and fast. dumb drunk-ass me keeps on going while trying to get at the nice little inferno blazing on the floor. didn't even see the statie, i probably passed him going the other way while swerving all over trying to get at the fire. he' pulls me over, by which time i've managed to put the fire out, gags on the stench, asks what the hell is going on (don't think i had to worry about him smelling my breath). i told him what had happened, and he just waved me on my way after asking if i was sure the fire was out. didn't hurt that i knew him from my high school days. ;~)
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