The auto driver looks young. I generally avoid the younger drivers as they tend to be more aggressive in their bargaining, but he's offering a half decent rate for a Saturday night so me and Adar get into the auto rickshaw and head towards Indiranagar.

As the driver pulls away he  starts talking and it becomes increasingly clear that he's not quite right. He could be drunk or maybe he huffed glue before picking us up (a popular high with the youth out this way). As we speed down Outer Ring Road, he pulls out a joint and tries to light it using both hands. Freed from its master, our rickshaw instantly pulls right cutting across four lanes of traffic. He get's the joint lit and grabs the handles just as we're about to make contact with a large center divider. The strong smell of burning marijuana fills the backseat.

The brewery were careening towards is called Toit and features a skunk as their mascot, which is odd  as there are no skunks in India. A few weeks ago, we were having a beer with their brewmaster, a quiet guy from Ireland, and we asked him  what Toit meant. He just gave us a cryptic look and said, "You'll have to talk to the owner and see if he's willing to tell you." We laugh and our friend asks, "It's not from Austin Powers, is it?" The Irishman stops laughing and nods his head, "Go on."

"When Goldmember says, 'Toit. Toit like a tiger.'"

(See here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gu31VyXlTzo)

"Well done. You get a free beer."

We laugh, unable to believe that anyone would name their restaurant after such an obscure reference. Or maybe the brewmaster was just messing with us.  I don't know. Anyways...

Me and Adar finally arrive safely at Toit and as I hand the driver a hundred rupees he tells me if we're back by ten he'll take us home. Adar looks him and just says, "Macha (dude)...It's 10:30."

We find our friend Rhett sitting against the far wall of the patio with some friends. We introduce ourselves, order some food and start asking about each other's week.

Rhett is talking about looking for a new job when we hear tires suddenly panicking as they skip and skid over gravel followed by the unmistakable sound of steel stampeding into steel. For a fraction of a second the commotion stops. Eyes lock around the table.

Then it happens.

 The thin bamboo wall behind us bursts forwards, sending our new friends flying into the table and the table into us. Glasses knock over and smash into pieces on the floor below. High beams and dust find their way through the space between the dried bamboo stalks.

Everyone clamors away from the table in shock, but no one seems hurt.

The crowd spills out a side gate to see who has so violently interrupted their Friday night. As I follow I watch them angrily swarm the driver as he attempts to get out of his small SUV. His hands raised in front of him as if to claim ignorance. Everyone is yelling and shouting.

Then I look down and see our inanimate saviors.  A series of cement planters lining the patio's parameter have absorbed a majority of the vehicle's momentum, keeping a harsh bump from being lights out for us all.

Beyond the crowd I can make out the rest of the scene. As the driver lost control and came over the sidewalk he sideswiped a minivan forcing it into an auto rickshaw. The small, three-wheel transport has been forced around a light post as though it were made of aluminum foil and half-melted wax. 

A couple sits on the dirt floor holding their legs in pain. Nearby someone is one their phone calling for help.

 I walk back onto the patio where my friends are returning to the table, slowly rearranging the chairs and sitting back down.

In a bit of a daze, we finish what's left of our food and leave. We head a few blocks down the road to The Humming Tree where we laugh and drink a little more than usual.