#redfoxen

Anyway, being a cluster of bored and broke teenagers with only one car (and one driver's license) amongst the four of us, we had certain spots we liked to hang out at. Most frequently, we hit a local 24-hour diner and would get pancakes and coffee and cheese fries and whatever else suited our fancy. We'd usually be out pretty late, just shooting the shit and causing a bit of annoyance in the diner before Dean would cart all of us home. As my house was in the complete opposite direction from the diner as everyone else's, I would usually go home first. 

Now, none of us lived in BIG towns, but mine was definitely the smaller one. two stoplights, one grocery store, and an average population age of around 58 at best. There's also a still-functioning railroad going through te middle of "downtown" (and I use that term loosely). The railroad had been there for ages, and we always had to cross it to get to my neighborhood, a short drive out along a more secluded road. Most of the time, we had no troubles, but one particular night was...rather special. 

We pulled up to the railroad crossing right as the bells started ringing, heralding an oncoming train within the next few minutes. So, naturally, we stopped at the large white line that signaled where the guard rail would come down.. For a moment we continued on with our conversations and jokes, but suddenly I noticed something very odd.

"Do we seem really close to the tracks to you?" I asked, and the others agreed.

Someone from the back seat wondered aloud, "Where's the guard rail...?"

And no sooner had the words exited their mouth than there was a sudden very ominous KA-CHUNG noise on top of the car as the rail planted itself directly in the middle of Dean's kayak rack. 

Naturally, being a car full of teenagers mere feet from the tracks, well past the safety line, with an oncoming train rounding the corner, we all lost our shit. 

Dean slammed it in reverse, creating an ear-grating noise of metal-agains-whatever-the-hell-kayak-racks-are-made-of.  Fourth Party unbuckled and climbed halfway out the window in an attempt to disentangle the guard rail from the top of the car. Abbye and I, obviously being the most level-headed and forward-thinking individuals of the group, clawed at the sides of the car while screaming something along the lines of "holy shit holy shit we are going to fucking die here and only Fox News will cover our deaths".

We did get out of the way, shockingly. I believe the entirety of the seven minutes it took for te freight train to pass were spent alternating between adrenaline-fueled maniacal laughter and trying not to pass out. There may have also been a vow from Dean that he would never drive me home again somewhere in the ruckus, but as we all know that hasn't held at all.