Blam
It's been awhile since I've written in this old beast, but something has happened that warrants an entry.
I got in a car accident yesterday. And no, it was not just a little fender bender, it was a bonafide crash site complete with three police vehicles, crowds of onlookers, and massive, massive damage to public property.
Also, no, it was not my fault. Also, yes, I'm fine (shockingly).
It happened as such: I was spending Thursday night as I've spent every Thursday night in the past few months, clad in humiliating attire and delivering greasy pizza to patrons, praying for that elusive five dollar plus tip. I was on my second delivery of the night, it was about 5:30 and I was driving down Hillcrest. I spot the road that I'm meant to turn onto, slow down, and am about to make the turn when I feel a massive force from behind and, suddenly, find my car (with me inside it) careening forward at probably thirty miles per hour. The car shot past the crossroad, went up onto the sidewalk, then up onto the grassy rocky area beyond the sidewalk, then it crashed full on into a light post. The light post was knocked over and fell into the middle of Hillcrest, shattering everywhere. The airbags deployed. I'm honestly not sure if I hit the airbag or if my seatbelt restrained me, but once the car came to a stop and the smell of burning rubber perfumed the car's interior, I quickly got the hell out of there. About three and a half hours of chatting with the police and just sitting around later, I got a ride from Brett and went home.
Over those three hours lots and lots of people from the town homes at the crash site and from various cars came and asked me if I was okay. Two people gave me bottles of water, one guy went into his house and came out with a thing of gingerale. One woman told me matter of fact that whether I feel hurt or not I should go to the emergency room as soon as possible. It was weird, because I wasn't hysterical or even upset, and I felt fine. A lot of the time I was just kind of sitting back and laughing at this whole thing. It was so crazy.
Of all the people who came down, one of them was the woman whose pizza I was delivering. She felt really bad. But then, after asking me like seven times if I'm okay, she asked if I still had the pizza. I opened the trunk and there it was, though really fucking jacked up. She took it anyway. This was pretty early on, and for the remaining couple hours probably fifteen people (including all three cops at different times) made some joke about me giving them pizza. They all said it with the same kind of half grin as if to say "I'm so clever for coming up with this."
I saw that Dominos sent a replacement pizza to the house later on, so that woman ended up getting a free pizza out of the whole thing. I think she's the clear winner in the cosmic framework of the day.
One thing that really sucked, besides the whole massive car wreck part, was that the other guy's car was barely damaged so he drove off about an hour before I left, and for that remaining hour the crash site looked like someone had just driven his car into a pole. That was definitely what people thought, I could tell by some of the looks I got from passerbys. A few people even glared at me, which seems pretty obscene. Thankfully there were nice gingerale-giving people too, to balance things out. Even one of the police officers came over and said "the worst part of this, see, is that all these people think some dumb kid just ran his car into a light pole. Little do they know" and winked at me. The tow truck guy told me that if I don't have full insurance the car will just go to the junk yard. I got scared for a second, then I told him I got hit from behind, and he said "oh, then you have nothing to worry about."
This also happened to be maybe one of two days in the past month that I decided not to wear an undershirt, so I was stuck in my ridiculous Dominos uniform while I sat on the curb, everybody who went by staring at me. At least I wasn't wearing the visor.
Good news is that I pretty much feel fine. I woke up today sore in a few places, and some people at the crash site told me very sternly that it might take a few days for my body to hurt. In any case, I'm definitely not seriously injured. My car, however. That's another story.
The old girl. The classy, smooth 1995 red-cum-red/black saturn, with the defunct CD player and the hanging light, is no more. It was completely destroyed. I'll find out in a few days how much money I'll get for a new vehicle. But for now, I must take a moment to mourn the unfortunate passing of my first car. It ran rough. It looked like a hot wheels. There was frequently an unpleasent odor that manifested itself from the seats, and my new occupation didn't do much to alleviate that. The car was a piece of shit, but damnit, it was a good piece of shit.
And while I beat it up a lot, some black four door sedan and a light pole delivered the murderous final blow. Anyone who I've given rides to in the past, I ask you to take a moment of silence to commemorate this poor car, passing away before its time.
For now, I'm gonna need to hitch some rides.
I got in a car accident yesterday. And no, it was not just a little fender bender, it was a bonafide crash site complete with three police vehicles, crowds of onlookers, and massive, massive damage to public property.
Also, no, it was not my fault. Also, yes, I'm fine (shockingly).
It happened as such: I was spending Thursday night as I've spent every Thursday night in the past few months, clad in humiliating attire and delivering greasy pizza to patrons, praying for that elusive five dollar plus tip. I was on my second delivery of the night, it was about 5:30 and I was driving down Hillcrest. I spot the road that I'm meant to turn onto, slow down, and am about to make the turn when I feel a massive force from behind and, suddenly, find my car (with me inside it) careening forward at probably thirty miles per hour. The car shot past the crossroad, went up onto the sidewalk, then up onto the grassy rocky area beyond the sidewalk, then it crashed full on into a light post. The light post was knocked over and fell into the middle of Hillcrest, shattering everywhere. The airbags deployed. I'm honestly not sure if I hit the airbag or if my seatbelt restrained me, but once the car came to a stop and the smell of burning rubber perfumed the car's interior, I quickly got the hell out of there. About three and a half hours of chatting with the police and just sitting around later, I got a ride from Brett and went home.
Over those three hours lots and lots of people from the town homes at the crash site and from various cars came and asked me if I was okay. Two people gave me bottles of water, one guy went into his house and came out with a thing of gingerale. One woman told me matter of fact that whether I feel hurt or not I should go to the emergency room as soon as possible. It was weird, because I wasn't hysterical or even upset, and I felt fine. A lot of the time I was just kind of sitting back and laughing at this whole thing. It was so crazy.
Of all the people who came down, one of them was the woman whose pizza I was delivering. She felt really bad. But then, after asking me like seven times if I'm okay, she asked if I still had the pizza. I opened the trunk and there it was, though really fucking jacked up. She took it anyway. This was pretty early on, and for the remaining couple hours probably fifteen people (including all three cops at different times) made some joke about me giving them pizza. They all said it with the same kind of half grin as if to say "I'm so clever for coming up with this."
I saw that Dominos sent a replacement pizza to the house later on, so that woman ended up getting a free pizza out of the whole thing. I think she's the clear winner in the cosmic framework of the day.
One thing that really sucked, besides the whole massive car wreck part, was that the other guy's car was barely damaged so he drove off about an hour before I left, and for that remaining hour the crash site looked like someone had just driven his car into a pole. That was definitely what people thought, I could tell by some of the looks I got from passerbys. A few people even glared at me, which seems pretty obscene. Thankfully there were nice gingerale-giving people too, to balance things out. Even one of the police officers came over and said "the worst part of this, see, is that all these people think some dumb kid just ran his car into a light pole. Little do they know" and winked at me. The tow truck guy told me that if I don't have full insurance the car will just go to the junk yard. I got scared for a second, then I told him I got hit from behind, and he said "oh, then you have nothing to worry about."
This also happened to be maybe one of two days in the past month that I decided not to wear an undershirt, so I was stuck in my ridiculous Dominos uniform while I sat on the curb, everybody who went by staring at me. At least I wasn't wearing the visor.
Good news is that I pretty much feel fine. I woke up today sore in a few places, and some people at the crash site told me very sternly that it might take a few days for my body to hurt. In any case, I'm definitely not seriously injured. My car, however. That's another story.
The old girl. The classy, smooth 1995 red-cum-red/black saturn, with the defunct CD player and the hanging light, is no more. It was completely destroyed. I'll find out in a few days how much money I'll get for a new vehicle. But for now, I must take a moment to mourn the unfortunate passing of my first car. It ran rough. It looked like a hot wheels. There was frequently an unpleasent odor that manifested itself from the seats, and my new occupation didn't do much to alleviate that. The car was a piece of shit, but damnit, it was a good piece of shit.
And while I beat it up a lot, some black four door sedan and a light pole delivered the murderous final blow. Anyone who I've given rides to in the past, I ask you to take a moment of silence to commemorate this poor car, passing away before its time.
For now, I'm gonna need to hitch some rides.