Between Saturday and Sunday night it was supposed to snow a bunch, but when I woke up on Sunday there wasn’t really a whole lot of snow on the ground. Now, I’m planning a pretty cool retreat a few weeks from now at Ste. Anne’s in Detroit, and I kind of wanted to head that way to scope out the space and what not.
So I said to my sister, “I’m going to head downtown for mass.”
And she was like, “Are you sure? Isn’t there supposed to be a lot of snow?”
But I was like, “Well, it doesn’t seem like there’s a lot of snow, I think I’ll be fine.”
Enter my car. Turn on the tango CD recently borrowed from the library. Heat the seats. Enter the highway. Drive through the snow.
(Ominous music starts here).
I can replay the moments leading up to the grand moment I lost control of my car in my mind. I remember wondering if I should take M-10 instead of I-75 (fewer curves) but, at the last minute I didn’t. I remember wondering if I should stay in the lane where everyone was merging or move to the left to avoid the other cars, and that’s what I did. I remember when I first lost control of my wheel, when my car spun across all four lanes, how I braced for the impact, the sound of metal against the median.
I remember staring at the oncoming traffic, straightening my car on the shoulder in seconds of neck-tensed panic so no one would hit me.
Then I sat there, staring at the oncoming traffic, wondering what to do next.
So I texted Kathryn all, “Pray for me, I just got in an accident” (and left her hanging for a few hours, which was the wrong thing to do and I’m sorry).
Then I pulled out my insurance information. Why? I don’t know. I thought that that’s what people do in accidents…even if the accident is just with the median.
I was stunned for a minute, then I was like, “Maybe I need to look at my car. I think I hit the back.” So I got out, and looked and, you know, it didn’t look too bad…I mean, I park in a structure and sometimes it looks more scratched when I return from work.
Then I looked at the front. And the fender was off. And the front was smashed. My new car. So then I died a little on the inside.
Then I got back in my car and called 911. I said, “Hello??? Um, yeah, I just lost control of my vehicle and I hit that one cement thing they have on the side of the road” because I couldn’t remember the name of it.
And the 911 operator said, “The median? Honey, did you hit the median?”
And I said, “Yes, that’s the word. I forgot it.”
So she transferred me to the state police who were like, “Did you hit anyone?” and I was like, “No?” So they were like, “Do you want us to call a tow truck?” But I thought I knew a better one (heh. False), so I was like, “Um, no.”
So then I called my dad for the tow truck we’ve used before (he went to high school with the guy?) and I called the company and they were like, “No, you’re too far away from us.” And right about here my phone’s internet stopped functioning (why do I even have you, phone, if not for emergencies?? You are not worth the extra $$ every month!), so I had to call home again, but the second place they gave me didn’t work, either. So then I called a third time, and finally reached a guy, “Lee,” and he was kind and said he’d be out in a little bit, and I hung up the phone.
At that point, there wasn’t really a lot more for me to do, so I thought about how I was on my way to CHURCH and I hit a median and I could have died and the car is new and now it’s smashed in front, and I started crying a bit. Why not be honest, right?
Thing is, I don’t cry cute. I cry snotty and red, and my nose started running but I had JUST WASHED my coat, so I had no Kleenex in my pocket, and instead all I had was a lost mitten, so I wiped my nose all over that, in the cold, in my smashed car.
And then a friend texted, “Hey, how was your party last night?” because he’s a nice guy and stuff; so I texted back like, “I’m fine, but I just hit the median and none of the suburban tow trucks will come get me and I’m a little distracted at the moment.”
So then he called me, seconds later like, “Hey, how are you? Are you OK?”
And I said, “I’m fine, there’s a truck coming out to get me,”
And right then another car lost control in the exact same spot where I lost control, and headed straight towards me.
So I reacted to that disaster by yelling my train of thought into the phone, at this poor guy, which I really feel awful about and I promise I apologized later. It went something like,
“OH NO, OH, PLEASE NO! THERE’S A CAR HEADED RIGHT AT ME! HE LOST CONTROL, TOO! I NEED TO GET OUT OF MY CAR (and I did, at that moment) HE’S GOING TO HIT ME I CAN’T TALK TO YOU RIGHT NOW GOOD-BYE.”
And I hung up.
(Is that not the worst way to comfort someone??)
Now, that guy was fine but then, minutes later, there was another crunch and another car spun out in the same spot a few yards from me and I was just like, “God, if you want to kill me, please don’t draw this out.”
And then my dad pulled up, and we kind of just stared at each other and he was like, “I think I can turn this car around and drive away”
And I was like, “I JUST SAW TWO PEOPLE ALMOST KILL ME, STAY AWAY FROM THE VEHICLE.”
Then a cop pulled up, and he was this happy, young dude all, “Hi guys! What’s up?” which was just a weird addition and they called a different tow truck my dad was like, “Oh, my son wants to be a cop, any suggestions” (!!???!?!?) because they felt conversation was a positive suggestion they stood right next to the road.
The cop left, I sat in the back of my dad’s car like an ashamed puppy, watching the drops of melted snow slide down the window, and the tow truck eventually came.
The tow truck guy got my car and we drove to the dealership and I kind of wanted to make small talk, since that’s who I am; but I also kind of wanted to fall asleep forever since my adrenaline kind of leveled at that point and I was tired.
I was like, “Soooo, how long will this take to repair?”
And he was like, “Well, did your air bags go off?”
Him: “Well, I’d say under a month or thereabouts.”
Me, mentally: “Oh, great. Helllllo, bus route.”
Then he dropped me off.
And that was pretty much my Sunday.
Yeah, things could have been 100% worse, and I’m aware of that, as I sit here with only a head/ back ache plus a $500 deductible BUT STILL if you have an extra Hail Mary or two hanging about…it’s not like I’m going to be picky.