March 31 Motoring Mayhem

Crashing the car today was a proverbial pain in the backside.

I was travelling merrily along a 2-lane busy road, heading off to have my toenails polished, followed by a swan around looking at clothes in the shops, when an elderly gentleman (I was soon to find out he was no gentleman) pulled out from the side of the road directly across the lane next to me and then across my path in an effort to turn around and go in the opposite direction.  There wasn't anywhere to go except smash bang into the front drivers side of his car, then over a road sign, and then up onto the centre area that separates the traffic going in each direction.  It must have been an almighty bang because people came running from every direction.  I was completely unscathed, but he kind of faked the wobbles and kept looking over at me shaking his head.  I estimated his age at about 80 years old.

A weird Samoan man of about 50 came out of his house and across the road to get to me and he just kept insisting I come inside his house to make a phone call to the police.  I'm fairly familiar with stranger danger as I've drummed it into my kids heads long and hard for the last 12 years.  You know "Even if he looks nice and has all the lollies in the world...etc etc" kind of stuff.  Anyway, this guy was unrelenting.  He kept motioning me towards his front door with his hand behind my back.  I had my own phone for God's sake, he wasn't going to get me inside his house.  About 1 minute later he is on his phone out on his front verandah talking to the police, and he yells out that the police want to speak to me.  Up I go.  Then when I finish speaking to the police, he pops his hand on my back and pushes me into his lounge room saying "come and have an orange juice."  Jesus! Now I'm sitting at his breakfast table drinking juice.  All I could think of was what everyone outside would think of me just disappearing into his house and not emerging again.

He went on and on about how he sends his sister money in Samoa; what the exchange rate is; why he came to Australia.  He kept speckling the conversation with things like "your husband must know all about that" and "lucky you didn't have your kids in the car".  Anyway, the crowd outside must have gotten sick of waiting for me and I think the police had arrived and were looking for the driver of the car that was half on and half off the median strip.  Someone came to rescue me, and I was free.

Lucky for me, there were 2 witnesses to the accident because the old man was a real meanie.  He was uninjured.  My ex-nursing skills come in handy sometimes, and I figured that unless he was complaining of chest pain all that he would suffer was a really sore old rickety body tomorrow.  So I attempted to make his acquaintance with a gentle handshake.  Lets remember that he had careered directly across 2 lanes of traffic to turn around and go in the opposite direction.  He snatched his hand away and kept yelling that I was speeding.  Well funny thing was, I could see his head as my car was sailing towards his.  You know that 2 seconds when you know it's inevitable and no amount of braking is going to change things.  He hadn't even seen me.  He was looking straight ahead, and the crash was the first thing he knew of me.  He was kind enough to tell me I needed driving lessons, and that he bet I didn't even have a licence.  He kept saying over and over that he'd been driving for 65 years and not had an accident.  I left him to it.  He was a nasty bit of work.

Anyway, I got my 3rd trip in a police car in 13 months because the police gave me and the wicked old man a trip to our respective destinations.  The previous 2 were in the back of a paddy wagon, so to be free in the car with the police just chatting to them was a new experience for me.  The Samoan man did try to get me to go with him in his car to the shops, but I declined.  Once in the police car, the old man Vlad (that was his name) kicked up a bit of a stink about travelling in the police car with me.  He started his diatribe about my poor driving skills and how he would bet that I had no licence.  He sprayed saliva as he spoke to me, and as he spat his words out he looked me up and down with a foul sneer on his face. I was far enough away to avoid his spittle, but he covered the police forensic bag with it.  I was heading to the nearby shopping centre, and Vlad was heading to his friend's house to check his friend wasn't dead.  That's what the police said anyway.  Vlad hadn't heard from his friend for a couple of days.  They dropped me off first in case Vlad's friend was indeed dead.

So tomorrow I shall collect my rental car.  My super expensive car insurance covers that.  There is only 1 week till we leave for Vietnam.  I need the car because how else would I get the cat to the kennels next weekend, buy easter eggs for the kids, and basically enjoy myself while my children spend the first half of the school holidays with their Dad.