The Smell of Defeat

Driving 50 miles per hour down a small, residential street is not a good idea. The street was Chenery. The street winds its way through Glen Park. A tight lane flanked by parked cars which hardly allows for two moving cars to pass each other, Chenery has many small stop signs which appear as if from a fog. Last night there was no fog, but I was driving 50 miles per hour and, when one of these signs appeared, I slammed on the brakes which promptly lost most of their pressure. I did get the car to stop somewhere near the limit line. There were no other cars and no pedestrians in sight. Then I smelled the burnt brake fluid. Two hours into my shift, I went home.

My stats to date:

(2) Sets of smoked brakes

(3) Blown transmissions

(1) Door torn off a cab

(1) Side mirror shattered