Seventy-first posting - mistakes

Hi there. Long time no chat. As usual, I wait until the world nearly ends before I update this blog. This time I’ve got some real news….

On Saturday afternoon, less than a block from my house, I was driving to a picnic when a car came barreling through a stop sign to my right, crashed across the front of my car, turned mine backwards, and subsequently wrapped his around a telephone pole. After asking if I was ok (I told him I was), the driver (early 20s) mentioned to me and the growing crowd that he was heading down the block to his mother’s, where she had his registration. An hour later, he hadn’t come back (Mistake #1). The accident (I use the term loosely) was now a hit and run.

The police searched his car to find identification and an address. Both of his airbags had blown out, so this took awhile. They eventually located the owner – who lived in the opposite direction the driver had walked – and I heard periodic updates on the radio, including “…peeped around the back…we went around the other way…we got him!” (Mistake #2)

The main officer asked if I wanted to press charges. I had no idea. What did I know? I told him I’d think about it, and he went about completing his forms.

Several minutes later, another officer popped the trunk, and with an “Oh boy,” showed us Mistake #3 – a gun. Said accident just got taken up a notch. Shit, I thought. Trunk or not, that was just stupid. More to think about.

The main officer returned with the news that the other driver was being driven back, and that I had to decide about pressing charges. For those of you who know me, you probably wouldn’t be surprised to know that I asked the officer for the pros and cons of this decision. He didn’t say much, but did mention (a) that if I didn’t want to press charges, he wouldn’t need to complete the paperwork, and (b) that if someone hit his car at high speed by running an obvious stop sign AND had a gun in the car, it wouldn’t be a tough decision. I agreed and will.

Despite transmission fluid pouring out and wipers going nonstop, my car was nothing compared to the mangled mess of the other car. The towing dude commented that mine was probably totaled but that it wasn’t entirely clear. He took my car, and a squad car pulled up with the other driver in the back seat. I was asked to identify him, and fortunately, he didn’t look at me. As I turned around, he said, “Sir, please don’t sue my family.” I walked away.

That was my Saturday afternoon. Good times. Welcome to the neighborhood. NATHAN