There was a lot of excitement at the end of our street yesterday. A person driving a real cute black t-top Firebird with spoiler and fancy wheels completely demolished his car there. In the process of doing that, he also managed to injure himself moderately, his passenger less moderately, and snap off the power pole on the corner in the process.
We had the police, fire department, ambulance, power company, cable company, phone company and the street sweeper visit us in quick succession. Today, except for a few stray bits of glass, you can’t even tell there was an accident.
See, what actually happened was the guy and his buddy had made a quick run to the Red Fox, a local liquor store/pawn shop/dive. I suppose they had run out of supplies for their customary afternoon libations. Having successfully restocked, they headed for home.
They accelerated out of the parking lot; really had to stand on it since they were cutting off a big semi truck. It has been a little snowy and icy round here, and so there was a certain amount of gravel at the edge of the pavement. Their vehicle fishtailed, the guy tried to drive out of the skid in proper drag-race fashion. Oops, too late, front wheel in ditch, hits culvert, car goes completely airborne, and is stopped by contacting the power pole, which snapped off at the base. Car is tipped over by contact, lands on side on side street, ours.
Driver is partially ejected from car, jumps up and runs away from vehicle. I figure he has watched a lot of violent movies and was fully expecting it to blow up. Nice fellow, he didn’t seem to be concerned about his buddy, whom he left in the car.
Well, I don’t have a lot of sympathy for either one of them. This vehicle and its occupants have a long term habit, observed by all the neighborhood. They seem to fancy themselves as really hot drivers. I have observed them more than once put the car in a 4-wheel drift and speed around the corner onto our street, then accelerate as they see just how fast they can get going before they have to slam on the brakes at the end of the block where our street makes a 90 degree turn.
A few months ago, because we were all complaining about the speeding going on in our residential neighborhood full of small children, the police put up the little radar box that has the sign on top that tells you what the speed limit is. As you drive by, the box tells you how fast you are going. These young gentlemen felt that this was a challenge to them, and used the box to see how fast they could get going before they reached its position. They regularly pegged the box at 99 mph (159 kph), laughing all the way.
I mentioned this fact to the policeman who was investigating the incident. He said, “Well, we really aren’t very surprised to see this car on its side.” I guess they knew him too.
As I was standing there looking at this jerk, as he waited his turn for medical attention, he was going over his story. Saying things like, “I don’t see how this could have happened.” I pointed out to him that the speed limit on the street he was driving on when the incident occurred was only 35 mph. He actually said, “I couldn’t have been going more than 35, I just pulled out of that store down there.”
I actually laughed. “Gee, I could have been going faster than 35 in that space, hon, and I only have a dumb Oldsmobile, not a cute little sports car.” I’m no physicist, but I doubt that a car going less than 35 miles per hour would snap off a ten inch in diameter power pole at the base.
Well, for once the right person wrecked their car and no innocents were involved. At least he won’t have a car to speed around in for a few days. Maybe he’s even in jail; he was probably under the influence of some sort of inebriant.
Karma sucks sometimes.
the havens 