Like the old sayings go, "Sometimes you're the windshield, sometimes you're the bug," or "I'd rather be a hammer than a nail." Actually, I prefer, "Why do bad things happen to good people?" But all in all, other than the head on collision I was in on Wednesday, everything that day went pretty well.
Trust me, there isn't much in this world that can bring your brain cells into razor sharp focus like seeing a 3,000 pound motor vehicle coming directly at you on the same side of the road that you are presently occupying. Only the bride, when she does the laundry, will know how much attention I gave it. Lest you think that this was a cataclysmic event of biblical proportions, fortunately I saw her vehicle approaching in time to come to a complete stop prior to the "engagement." Briefly, my cat-like mind reflected back on the Titanic disaster but in this case the iceberg was moving directly towards the "ship" while all engines were on stop. The young lady, who hereafter shall be known as the party of the first part, had an allergic reaction to some medication and essentially blacked out at the wheel which allowed me, the party of the second part, to politely use his car as a breaking mechanism for her before she ran into something important like a "No Right on Red" sign. (God knows we only have so many "No Right on Red" signs in this world and we can't afford to lose any of them.) When I spoke to her, it was clear that she was non compus mentis but not so out of it that the first thing out of her mouth when I checked to see if she was OK was, "Oh, I think I hurt my back." She must have thought I was Alan Dershowitz or something. My call to 911 produced a response from the Peabody Police Department at a decibel level somewhat akin to the activity on Omaha Beach during D Day. But to their credit, the police didn't really know how serious the accident was. The best piece of advice/instruction during this whole event was the request/direct order from the police officer that I retrieve my license and registration from my car and wait over there away from the before mentioned POTFP (party of the first part.) Your humble servant, the aggrieved POTSP (no explanation required) was just entering the massive adrenaline injection stage of the proceedings and really didn't want to be within arm's reach of said alleged perpetrator.
A very nice woman was on the scene immediately after the accident. She stated that she had been following the young lady and was on her cell phone trying to call the police because of her erratic driving when the collision occurred. She was very nice and hung in there until the police arrived. She gave her statement to the police and went on her way. I was very thankful that she took the time to stay on scene mainly because her presence minimalized my primal urges to turn the POTFP into a babbling mass of protoplasm with my bare hands. I prefer to not have witnesses around when I participate in mass mayhem.
So the police and EMT's checked out the you know who for about 30 minutes while I checked out cloud formations and consoled my poor, battered Lucille. (My car's name is Lucille. Car naming and it's origins will be fodder for a future blog.) Later in the day, the insurance adjuster mentioned the word "totaled" several times when appraising Lucille's damages but fortunately, after his calculations were complete, did he send her to the intensive auto body care unit for much needed reconstruction, repair and recuperation.
The best part of this whole debacle, if there is a best part, is that my rental car is a black Crown Victoria with black sidewalls.
Yup, it looks exactly like an unmarked police car.
I'm thinking, maybe when the adrenaline wears off in a year or so, that I'll drive it at 100 miles per hour, high beams flashing on and off, up Route 95 and watch the lemmings get the hell out of my way. Or maybe sit by the side of the road in my town and watch the locals jam on their brakes when they see "the man" or a reasonable facsimile of such hiding in the weeds. Remember: absolute power corrupts absolutely.
I hope Lucille won't be jealous.
Until next time...........
No comments:
Post a Comment