That could have hurt. A lot.

I was pretty bleary this morning as I drove to Willow Station to catch the train. KCRW's pledge drive didn't even have the power to annoy me. Something did manage to wake me up, though. Nearly getting killed turns that trick nicely. And it all happened pretty fast.

So I get to the intersection of Pacific Ave. and 8th St. This is one of the places where the Blue Line makes a right turn. I stopped since the light was red. That's what you're supposed to do. The train was to my left also stopped, obeying it's very own set of traffic lights. My light turned green - the train's didn't. I tapped the accelerator. But... so did the fucking train driver.

Now, fully awake and choking out choice obscenities, I slammed on my brakes. Fortunately, so did the train. It would have hit me right on the driver-side door of our newish car. My reflexes are good, though, as were the train driver's, thank goodness, so no harm done. But he had actually pulled it out far enough that I had to swerve around it. I did manage to give the driver a dirty look as I pulled away, while my heart jumped like a moon-bounce at an eight-year-old's birthday party. Now I wish that the trains had those "How am I driving?" stickers.