Death on Lamar

I almost died yesterday driving home from work. I was speeding along on the interstate, and I must have had a brain fart, because for some reason I got off on the wrong exit, Lamar Avenue. Lamar Avenue is scary. Bad things happen on Lamar. I believe most Memphis hookers and crack dealers promote their wares on Lamar. Anyway, I'm going along in the right hand lane and a minivan flies by me. I'd say they were going about 90 to 100 miles/hr. They approach the red light and, nope, not stopping. They just go right on through. Fortunately the other cars were able to swerve and escape what could have been a huge pile up. I just stared in horror. Then along came about 5 cops, also going 100 miles/hr. As this was going on, I got this feeling that I was going to die on Lamar Avenue. It was my destiny. I had inexplicably gotten off on the wrong exit and was soon to be smashed into by a speeding cop. I was convinced of my impending doom. So I tried to enjoy my last few minutes of life on what has to be one of the ugliest, most depressing streets known to man. I think hell might resemble Lamar Avenue.