Ouch. Ouch. Damn! Stop!

Back in 1995, I took a creative writing class. It was once a week, Wednesday evenings.

On the last night of the last class I took, I got into a car accident. 
Two lanes of traffic, a center lane, then two more lanes. I was in the left lane, there was a big farm truck (dual wheels) in the right lane. He drifted into the left lane, then into the center lane. Turned on hazard lights. So I slowed down and got into the right lane to get around him. And that stupid fuck made a right hand turn across both lanes of traffic.

I was going 40 when I hit his right rear tire. Had I hit ahead of the tire or behind it, I'm sure the damages would have been much worse to me. As it was, I had some pretty amazing bruises across my front where the seat belt locked up, a humongous bruise on my right foot (we figured out that the fire extinguisher had rocketed out from under the driver's seat and slammed into my foot) and I smacked my face on the padded center of the steering wheel. Now since my seat belt had locked up, I didn't hit hard, but I had a little bruise on my forehead, too. That car was a 1987 model, no airbag.

The car was totaled.

This dipshit came over to my window as I sat, unable to get out of the car, and said, "Didn't you see my hazard lights?"

I still think my instant response was good. I was dazed and hurt and angry.
"A hazard light is not a fucking turn signal."

Now over the next few weeks I learned that this guy was such a shitty driver that he was in the state's risk pool insurance. I also learned that he was a liar, and the driveway he was turning into belonged to his grandfather, who was also a fucking liar.

They lied about how it happened, saying that he was turning from MY lane, signal on.

But I had four witnesses who had stopped at the scene. And every one of them told the same story. And that little asshole's insurance ended up paying for everything. Because he was a shitty driver.

I was very grateful that the witnesses had stopped, as otherwise it would have been my word against his. And his lying-ass grandfather.

Jerks.

So I was waiting to pull out of the driveway at Goodwill on Tuesday morning. There was an elderly gentleman ahead of me, turning left. Since I was turning right, I hung back, knowing he would not be able to see around my car if I pulled up on his right.

He waited and waited and waited to make that left turn.
Finally, an opening as soon as that white van gets past...

And what did he do? He misjudged the distance and gunned it, hitting the right rear of the van a glancing blow.

He immediately pulled over, so did she. I pulled up behind her and turned on my hazard lights. But it's a really busy street, so I was paying careful attention, not removing my seat belt until all the cars had gone by, then getting out and onto the grass on the other side of the curb.

She was out of the van, on the phone. When I asked her if she was okay, she yelled at me, "Why don't you watch where you're going?"

I said mildly, "I didn't hit you, I witnessed the accident. Are you okay?"

Then she said, "Oh. Sorry."

The gentleman had reached us by then, and I asked him if he was injured. He said he was just fine. But kept saying, "How did this happen? I didn't see this van. *I* hit it?"

I found paper and a pen in my backpack, scrawled my name and phone number on it twice, tore it in half and gave half to each driver.

I don't know if anyone will contact me or not.
But I've been grateful for about 22 years that people stopped and gave me their information when that moron who should not have been driving almost got me killed.

So I stop and leave my information if I need to.