Man, oh man... I feel SO bad for the guy in this story.
He's just cruising along and he stops at a corner, rolls down his window... and it suddenly hit by 370 gallons of liquid manure.... or to put that in laymen's terms... about 7 bathtubs worth of crap. Now, I felt bad for those people who got bombed from the funky mess that came out of the Dave Matthews band's tour bus, but I don't think that was a bad as this.
I think that is one of those supreme moments of "if only" for that guy.... like if only I didn't open my window... or if only I didn't get to that corner at that moment. I wonder if time slowed down for him, so something that took maybe 3-5 seconds to happen seemed to take days to finish.... that first slow dawning moment of horror as he realized what was about to happen, a moment that was too late to do anything about it.
I also wonder if he got a moment of clarity from the whole event?
In closing, I am SO glad I'm not that guy. But by saying that, the truck of manure moment in my life is slowly approaching....