Didn't Look
I know I should've looked again. It's a rule of the road.
You should never forget to. I thought of it at the time—but
I'd just looked the moment before.
So I didn't think I needed to again. I didn't think—that's rich!
That's about it—not thinking!
Next thing I knew—my car is swinging wildly 180 degrees.
My friend's brother happened to be in his front yard.
The surprised look on his face said it all—holy shit!
I'd backed into a driveway across the street to turn around and park in front of his house.
I'd looked both ways on the way in, but—on the way out I looked in only one direction.
I thought: it's so quiet, dark night, not a thing stirring.
I actually felt I didn't need to look in the other direction!
BOOM!—I'm spinning a 180!
Funny thing—I don't remember seeing any headlights out of the corner of my eye.
Just darkness.
But the other car was no mirage. His front end all caved in let you know that.
Damn it was totaled!
But my girlfriend's car—only dented, passenger side rear.
The trunk needed to be jimmied to open.
My fault of course! I'd NEVER do that again.
We called the cops. Sat his patrol car, I'm in the front seat, other driver, rear.
And me making a complete ass of myself.
“You should watch where you're driving!” How's that for a memorable line?
The cop shoots me a look—he suspects it's my fault—he's right!
What a jerk I am.
Yes, we can use this memory to pummel my ego for years to come.
After a week goes by—time to deal with the insurance investigators.
The other driver's, a woman, is hostile trying to get me to admit it's my fault.
No time to be revealing. I carefully stand my ground.
My girlfriend's insurance man calls a few days later and is happy as hell.
He says “You're off the hook! The other driver has changed his story—
now he says you backed into him!” Meaning he loses the investigation.
Changing your story is a no-no after reporting to the police.
I'm glad—but I know it's really my fault.
Truth is—I think I had some help.
I think the other driver had just come from the convenience store,
top of the hill to buy cigarettes. He forgot to put his headlights on—
bright street lights would have confused him,
and he was looking down lighting a cigarette when I pulled out.
I think both of us didn't look at the moment of impact.
Excuses you'll say!
And I'll never know for sure.
I only have suspicions to ease my conscience—that's not much.
But...better than nothing.
