A line of cars ahead of me started to slow down. The woman driving the car in front of me started to slow down. I started to slow down. The young guy in back of me, "Mark" did not slow down. At all. Well, he did hit the brakes at the last second, but POW!
|A partial view of my only somewhat damaged rear bumper|
on my truck. The guy that hit me had it much worse.
It looked bad. The car in front of me had its back end pushed in. The car driven by Mark was totally crumpled in front, steam rising from the leaking radiator. I despaired at the damage to both the front and back end of my truck. I don't need this.
The three of us got out of our cars simultaneous. "Oh my God, are you alright, the woman ahead of me, Laura, said.
"Yes, how about you,?" I asked, alarm in my voice. She said she was fine.
I turned to Mark behind me, spread my arms as if to say "What the fuck?" but said, "Are you OK?" He mumbled something that sounded like a yes. That was the last sound I heard uttered from him for the rest of the incident.
Considering that my vehicle had been hit twice, basically, while the others had hit once, I was lucky. My back bumper is smushed in a little. The crack in my windshield is suddenly worse. There's a bit of give to my front grill. But the truck is in remarkably good shape.
While I'm not really enjoying this whole situation, the only thing that I'm really feeling negative toward is Mark.
I get it. He wasn't paying attention and should have. But we all make mistakes. This one ended in a three vehicle crash. Bummer. I'd have forgiven him had he at least mumbled an "Are you OK," or even a vague, "I'm sorry."
Instead, he stood around sulking the entire time, as if Laura and me had the gall to be on the road and in the way when Almighty Mark wanted to get home and We Were In the Way!!!
Poor frickin' baby. What were you doing Mark? Texting your girlfriend? Downloading music from your favorite new band? Or just trying to get where you were going at all costs? And why were you going so fast on such a congested city street?
I'll never know the answers to those questions, of course. But it doesn't matter.
At least I got the chance to call 911 and speak in police scanner parlance: "Hello, I'd like to report a three car MVA, no injuries but fluid leaking," I informed the dispatcher.
A pleasant and patient Burlington Police officer showed up. While he did paperwork, Laura and I commisserated on the situation, happy that nobody had gotten hurt, and this would resolve itself.
Mark apparently works for a local ferry service on the lake. I hope he doesn't drive the ferries. (The ferry service does seem to be run quite professionally and safely, so I doubt Mark is the Captain of any of their boats)
Some of Mark's coworkers arrived. He must have called them, asking for a ride home. His was the only vehicle that had to be towed from the scene. Karma, I guess.
My neck is vaguely sore today, but that's it. I'm feeling so ornery toward Mark that I really hope his neck is more sore than mine.
And yes, I know, in the grand scheme of things, this really isn't a big deal. Vehicles can be fixed. Nobody's hurt, really, and life goes on.
So, Mark. I'm busy. So maybe you should be the one contacting my insurance company and making all the arrangements. Or maybe you could just take a refresher course on how to drive.