Deer

The first deer was understandable. Two thirty in the morning just seems like a nice time to be a deer. Two enormous animals were blocking the path of my truck as I traveled sixty miles per hour northbound towards Gloucester.  One frustrating notion is the idea that I had traveled hundreds of miles through the woods of Maine and New Hampshire, nary a deer in sight, only encountering the beasts upon arriving back into the seaport.

The last mile of highway before the big bridge into the city is all hills.  I came over the asphalt crest, spotted the beasts and veered left with all my might. I felt and heard the impact. I did not want to stop. I did not stop. I did not look back. I made the last two miles home and turned off the truck and did not even look at the damage before going inside and going to bed.

I put in an insurance claim. Five hundred dollar deductible covered two thousand dollars worth of damage to the front bumper and passenger side door. There was deer hair stuck between the broken plastic.

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The second deer was outrageous. Four in the afternoon is not a proper time for a deer to try and cross route 127. This tiny little bambi bastard was likely committing suicide. The body flung across as the street at about the twenty five miles per hour, flipped on it's side and was spinning in circles as though the pavement were made of ice.

I was in a row of traffic. I had been staring at the license plate of the car in front of me. We were traveling at twenty five miles per hour. I did not want to stop. I was filled with rage. At God and Deer and Cars and Insurance Companies and Plastic and They Way Things Used to Be and also The Way Things Are Now.

I was so pissed. I was at the stoplight and we were going to need groceries so I went to the grocery store and in the parking lot I noticed my license plate was fucked up so I bought some tape inside as well as dinner and taped my license plate back on in the grocery store parking lot before driving home.

The plate is currently connected with bungee cords and they have held strong for a solid week now maybe more. There are plans to repair it. The little deer fucked up my headlight too. Lots of duct tape on that fucker at the moment. I'm too angry to put this through the insurance. I've accepted my new life as a deer killer and the associated costs of maintaining a truck that is properly equipped to really murder those deer real good.