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Oct. 14th, 2002 08:37 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
yendiI got hit by a car this afternoon.
I'm okay, but a little spooked.
I was coming back from Kroger, crossing Lavista at the intersection at Houston Mill. I waited, as always, until the light was green, and I had full right-of-way (not that I don't do my fair share of jaywalking elsewhere, but not at a busy intersection). Started to cross. And an asshole in a hatchback turned off of Houston, as assholes frequently do, and started to inch onto Lavista. A pretty normal occurrence, one I usually handle by glaring at the person and making it clear that it's my right of way, and he'd better not think of turning yet, no matter how important that call on his cell phone is.
But this time, the car kept coming. Even though I was literally right in front of him, and he was looking right at me. At first, I figured he'd slow down, but he actually sped up. And then a cliché kicked in -- time slowed down. Enough for me to stare in disbelief for what felt like an eternity. And enough for me to realize that I had no chance of dodging to either side of the car. So I did the only thing I could -- I dodged back, figuring the car might start to slow down. And it did. I rolled with the blow, and it only bumped me on the elbow and shin.
Alas, whatever sense I had during the accident fled immediately. I should have stayed down. That would have forced asshole hatchback driver to get out to check on me, which in turn would have attracted the attention of passersby, which would mean the sonofabitch would get the $50 fine and a point on his license, or whatever the joking penalty is for negligent vehicular assault is these days. At the least, it would have given me the chance to get his license plate number.
But I was in a weird combination state of anger and shock. I can't really even remember what happened, other than that I cursed at him, often and creatively, and he kept saying that he had no idea I was there (something that should be impossible unless he was blind or not paying attention). I don't remember walking home, but I did. I called![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
shadesong to tell her what happened, then called my doctor to make an appointment for tomorrow (I think I'm fine, but I want a second opinion), then the adrenalin left in a fell swoop, and I damn near fainted.
I watched a bit of tv, decided my diet could go to hell, and ate a sleeve of Thin Mints, to replace that adrenalin.
A few hours later, I'm pretty sure I'm okay, both physically and mentally. But this has reconfirmed my belief that all pedestrians should be allowed to carry rocket launchers, and use them on traffic violators as necessary.
It's also re-established, firmly, why I am not very sympathetic to people who go to New York and whine about not being able to make right turns on red.
I'm okay, but a little spooked.
I was coming back from Kroger, crossing Lavista at the intersection at Houston Mill. I waited, as always, until the light was green, and I had full right-of-way (not that I don't do my fair share of jaywalking elsewhere, but not at a busy intersection). Started to cross. And an asshole in a hatchback turned off of Houston, as assholes frequently do, and started to inch onto Lavista. A pretty normal occurrence, one I usually handle by glaring at the person and making it clear that it's my right of way, and he'd better not think of turning yet, no matter how important that call on his cell phone is.
But this time, the car kept coming. Even though I was literally right in front of him, and he was looking right at me. At first, I figured he'd slow down, but he actually sped up. And then a cliché kicked in -- time slowed down. Enough for me to stare in disbelief for what felt like an eternity. And enough for me to realize that I had no chance of dodging to either side of the car. So I did the only thing I could -- I dodged back, figuring the car might start to slow down. And it did. I rolled with the blow, and it only bumped me on the elbow and shin.
Alas, whatever sense I had during the accident fled immediately. I should have stayed down. That would have forced asshole hatchback driver to get out to check on me, which in turn would have attracted the attention of passersby, which would mean the sonofabitch would get the $50 fine and a point on his license, or whatever the joking penalty is for negligent vehicular assault is these days. At the least, it would have given me the chance to get his license plate number.
But I was in a weird combination state of anger and shock. I can't really even remember what happened, other than that I cursed at him, often and creatively, and he kept saying that he had no idea I was there (something that should be impossible unless he was blind or not paying attention). I don't remember walking home, but I did. I called
shadesong to tell her what happened, then called my doctor to make an appointment for tomorrow (I think I'm fine, but I want a second opinion), then the adrenalin left in a fell swoop, and I damn near fainted. I watched a bit of tv, decided my diet could go to hell, and ate a sleeve of Thin Mints, to replace that adrenalin.
A few hours later, I'm pretty sure I'm okay, both physically and mentally. But this has reconfirmed my belief that all pedestrians should be allowed to carry rocket launchers, and use them on traffic violators as necessary.
It's also re-established, firmly, why I am not very sympathetic to people who go to New York and whine about not being able to make right turns on red.