Between the ages of 16 and maybe, 20…I got into A LOT of car accidents. Like, a ridiculous amount and mostly all ridiculous circumstances.
There are actually SO many, that I’ll just pick a couple to start, I know your attention span isn’t that long…
1. It was summertime, driving alone through my hometown, I dropped some CD’s on the floor of my passenger seat so of course, while driving, I leaned way over there to get them…and not really paying attention to the road, ran into the guy in front of me. Nobody was hurt, thank God, there was only one loss…my drivers license to my Dad. What was I supposed to do? I needed to change my CD from Ace of Base to Wreckx-N-Effect, geez! (Because all I wanna do is zoom a zoom zoom zoom And a poom poom! Just shake your rump!)
2. It was winter, I was probably 17. My Dad always told me that I could only ever have ONE other passenger in the car at a time. I think he knew I had focus issues. But, I also had listening issues, so at this event, I think I literally had about 8 other people in my car, Chevy Blazer…people on laps and in the way, way back. My parents were leaving for Florida the next day (this is yet a whole other blog that I will someday write called, “My Parents left for Florida for a Week during Winter School Break from High School With No Supervision? Really??”) and with already having a couple accidents in my pocket, my Dad had begged me, “Whatever you do, just don’t get into any accidents while we’re away…” So, that night before they left, I was out driving around with 8+ of my friends and it was snowing pretty good. Icy too. I’m driving through an area near my hometown, some of you may know, Weirs Beach, but it didn’t look the way it does now in 1993. There was a roundabout and an island in the road with a big road sign in the middle of it. So, I’m driving towards it and I need to bear right, so I tap the brakes and nothing…no brakes. I was slip sliding away, not bearing right at all. Just straight. Straight over the island and straight running over the road sign. Knocked that thing right down. I finally get the car to stop on the other side.
So, what next? Do I leave the scene of the crime? I wasn’t drinking, it wasn’t really anything I did wrong, just an icy night with 9 teenagers in a car. I’m being yelled at to just “Drive Away! Drive Away!” But I can’t. Why not? Because across from us in a restaurant parking lot is a police car. With a policeman in it. He probably just witnessed this whole thing and thinks we’re drunk and wants to see if we’re gonna just pull a hit and run. So, I act very responsible and drive over to the awaiting policeman. I get out of my car and walk over to the cop car and I look in and this cop is sound asleep and I’m not saying this to be cliched or funny, but this is a fact…there was a box of Dunkin Donuts in his passenger seat. So, I do what any other reluctant and frightened teenage driver would do in this situation, I knock on the window. He wakes, startled. I make the face like, “Sorry to wake you Officer!!” He rolls down his window and stares at me and I say, “Ummm…I just hit some ice over there and my car slid and hit this road sign over there.” He looked at me, he looked over at my car overflowing with teenagers, he looked over at the flattened sign…and said to me, “Well, let’s get your parents on the phone.” “Oh crap,” I thought. My Dad is going to murder me. So we walked across the street to a payphone (yes a payphone, only the very elite had corded phones in their middle consoles in their cars in 1993)…and together, me and Mr. Cop McSnoozerson phoned my Dad. My Dad answered and I said, “Ummm…Dad, remember how you told me NOT to get into an accident WHILE you were away?”
I don’t remember what happened after that…I think the cop talked to my Dad and then my Dad dealt with the insurance.
Now that I pay for my own car insurance and knowing how much mine has gone up after just a small fender bender that I’ve had, I can’t imagine how much his insurance was with me on it…yikes!
Sorry Dad. 😦
Stay tuned for Part Dos of this saga where I will tell you a little anecdote about how my SUV was driven off the hood of a Corvette.
Heart you. (And heart my Dad for not murdering me in my teens.)