Can’t you just tell by the title that this is going to be a great post? So it all began on Thursday evening. I was driving home a little after 10 pm. Stopped at a red light at an intersection, minding my own business when I hear screeching tires from behind and nearly immediately after, I was hit.
First thought… wow… this is super convenient.
Turns out he was texting, thought the light was green, looked up and saw it was red, slammed on his brakes, fish-tailed, and hit me with the back end of his car.
My poor baby
The next most exciting bit of the story is when a man from an Indian Restaurant nearby comes out claiming he saw the whole thing asking if we were ok then places the blame on the man who hit me. The two men start fighting… turns out the Indian man is drunk (0f course he would be drunk). They are literally pushing, yelling at each other, f-bombs right and left. And what am I doing? Staring at them; scared for my life and almost wishing I had died in this car accident so I wouldn’t be in this awkward/frightening situation right now. Litterly just before punches were thrown some one came and broke up the fight.
We then swapped information as cigarette smoke was being puffed into my face by both the man who rear-ended me and his friend, that by this point had shown up. But they were so courteous though… they even offered me a cigarette (this sentence obviously drips with distain). Not once did he even apologize for the accident or what had happened.
But what about the prostitutes you ask? I had to walk across the intersection of the scene of the accident to get pictures of the skid marks on the road and the tattered broken pieces of my 4 runner/heart … when, what to my wondering eyes should appear, but two prostitutes in scanty black gear.
Also while crossing the street a man rolled down his window and asked me in a disgustingly perverted voice… “hey… need a ride?”. Let’s not leave out the bum riding his bike on the sidewalk Wednesday afternoon who told me I had a nice butt. Mind you, this accident took place one block from my apartment. I live in a really classy/safe/beautiful area…obviously. Someone please show me an area of Southern California that’s worthy of praise, and where I don’t feel like I’m going to be shot 24/7. Because I don’t know if that place even exists. I sure haven’t been there yet. Mama Wheatley… please take note that my next (ahem… first) care package should contain pepper spray and a stun gun… that is all. Thank you and goodnight.