No bear this time. And for those who are keeping track, this was the first one that was not my fault.
No sirree. There was no reason why the midsized boat, captained by an elderly black man who—and I wish I were just making this up—was literally eating fried chicken and chewing on a toothpick, could claim it had right-of-way. Pulling out of a mini-mall to turn left does not give you right-of-way against oncoming traffic, especially if said oncoming traffic (me) has to veer into oncoming traffic (them) to avoid you, so that you—quite luckily, due to the skilled maneuvering on this same oncoming traffic (me, again)—barely tap each other.
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