Driving the Wrong Way Down a One-Way Street
You're probably fooled by the title of this post. You're probably thinking that I'm tossing out a writer's metaphor about what it means to be doing the wrong thing at the wrong time in someones life.
You'd be wrong. Today - I literally drove the wrong way down a one way street - and I didn't get away with it.
It's weird to get hit by another car - I nearly made it through the intersection - there's that split-second of apprehension - the cuss words fill the inside of the truck and then the crash of fiberglass on fiberglass and broken glass, and bumpers, and truly none of that matters.
As you might suspect, I had no idea that it was one-way - I couldn't figure why neither of us had stop signs. I jumped from my car - unhurt - but mindful of the fact that a matter of feet might have ended my daydream about the new Mellencamp album, and calling the publisher, and making meatball subs for dinner, and doing the laundry and mowing the grass. A few feet and someone else would have to do that shit. A few feet - if I wasn't quicker through the intersection....
Anyway - I met the other driver just outside her car - I quickly noted the damage - two fenders instead of two quarter panels - except her bumper was in the middle of the road and I tripped over the friggen thing. "Are you all right?"
She was a 70-year old woman - unhurt, but scared - she started crying- I looked back for the street signs - where the hell was the stop sign?
I saw the cars pointed in the wrong direction - I saw the back of the freaking stop sign. "Are you all right?" I asked again. The woman burst into tears - "My husband's a cop," she said.
Four cops were running towards us - I'd had the good sense of causing an accident right in front of the station.
"We're all right," she said. "Just a couple of fenders."
I guess I did get away with it.
Check your road signs!
You'd be wrong. Today - I literally drove the wrong way down a one way street - and I didn't get away with it.
It's weird to get hit by another car - I nearly made it through the intersection - there's that split-second of apprehension - the cuss words fill the inside of the truck and then the crash of fiberglass on fiberglass and broken glass, and bumpers, and truly none of that matters.
As you might suspect, I had no idea that it was one-way - I couldn't figure why neither of us had stop signs. I jumped from my car - unhurt - but mindful of the fact that a matter of feet might have ended my daydream about the new Mellencamp album, and calling the publisher, and making meatball subs for dinner, and doing the laundry and mowing the grass. A few feet and someone else would have to do that shit. A few feet - if I wasn't quicker through the intersection....
Anyway - I met the other driver just outside her car - I quickly noted the damage - two fenders instead of two quarter panels - except her bumper was in the middle of the road and I tripped over the friggen thing. "Are you all right?"
She was a 70-year old woman - unhurt, but scared - she started crying- I looked back for the street signs - where the hell was the stop sign?
I saw the cars pointed in the wrong direction - I saw the back of the freaking stop sign. "Are you all right?" I asked again. The woman burst into tears - "My husband's a cop," she said.
Four cops were running towards us - I'd had the good sense of causing an accident right in front of the station.
"We're all right," she said. "Just a couple of fenders."
I guess I did get away with it.
Check your road signs!
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