Drive like a butterfly, slap like a bee

It’s not too often I think something I’ve done is cool. But today I did something so amazing that even a few hours afterwards I still felt like the baddest man on the planet.

Oh, apparently when I feel really good about myself I turn into a white, less kickass Muhammad Ali.

Alright, onto the greatness.

I’m driving all by myself. I’m behind a very slow car, I mean, it’s just going so slow it’s possible the driver was either dead or in the trunk of the car. Or old. Or a woman. Or Asian. Or a mixture of any of the aforementioned stereotypes, possibly mixed in with death or the trunk, or both.

Finally, the car is about to turn. It’s making a right turn. I know this because the driver signaled a good 30 seconds before making the turn, and then slowed down even more for the ensuing half a minute before making the turn.

Eventually, the car turns and I have a clear road in front of me. As I start to speed up I notice a line of about 6 cars going in the opposite lane. It’s a two-way street with only one lane going each direction. Also, because cars can park on this street, you kind of drive closer to the line in the middle of the road.

Anyway, I notice the driver of the last car in the opposite lane has his hand hanging out of his window. Except it’s not just lying on the window. It’s not like his elbow is just hanging there getting some air.

His arm is completely extended. I don’t know why, but I do live in a fairly Jewish area and he might’ve been taunting us with some sort of drive-by heil Hitler sign.

I remember not even thinking, but rolling down my window as well. And by roll down the window I mean press the button. Ours cars are moving towards each other, but I’m not sure if 1) he’ll keep his arm raised and 2) I can reach him. I stick my left arm out of the window, close my eyes and hope for the best.

I ended up veering off the road into a bench, hitting and killing an old man.

No, actually I didn’t. I kept my eyes open, for I wanted to see the awesomeness that was about the take place.

Our cars close in, his arm still raised, and my arm shooting out of the car while I attempted to get as close to the line as possible without accidentally killing my soon-to-be new friend.

We pass. Contact.

Yes, I high-fived him. And it was a perfect high-five. The kind that would’ve elicted a loud thwack! if we were stationary and high-fiving over him making some type of sexually implicit joke. But we weren’t.

We were driving by each other. And we high-fived. I once attempted this a few years back when I saw a friend of my driving, but he didn’t realize.

I’m not sure this guy did either. Maybe he though he hit a bird or flying piece of garbage. Or maybe he was just waiting for someone to high-five him, and after it happened he and his buddies in the car burst into laughter, wondering who this mystery high-fiver was. Why did he do it? Is it someone we know? Was he trying to do the same, or did he notice us? Will we ever know it was?

Hi, my name is Adam and we together we just completed the coolest moment in my life. I'd shake your hand, but I think we both know that's not necessary.