Today I was in a car accident.
My dad was driving and I was in the passenger seat. The woman ahead of us braked suddenly and my dad managed to avoid hitting her car. However, seconds afer we came to a complete stop, the woman behind us hit our car. I have repeated the story multiple times, and thus would rather not go into details, but it was a pretty scary moment. There was this impressive crash ($5000 worth of damage impressive) and I had a terrible headache for a while afterward.
Was I in danger? Yes. We were going thirty miles per hour or so, but multiply that by several tons and you get a huge value for momentum. The bumper and the trunk door of our minivan took the brunt of the force, but the little ashtray under the radio was open (we use it to store change) and there was a river of coins leading all the way back through the car.
So many variables were involved here. If I had not decided to stay after school, we would never have been on Pensacola Blvd. at 5:15. If any number of other things had happened, or not happened, the accident would never have occurred. And even if it had, what if I had not worn a seatbelt? The thought chills me. What if we had not been in a Toyota Sienna? Would the brakes have been as effective in another car? My dad thinks not. He said we justified buying a Toyota in this one incident — who knows where we would be if those were not some top-notch brakes.
This incident is another indication of why driving fucking scares me. I just took my learner license last night, and can stop by and get my ID any time I want, but I doubt I will be doing too much driving. I cannot afford being in control of a behemoth and be responsible for what happens out there. It is one of the same reasons I do not want to be a practicing doctor or lawyer — to have such power over life and death is a scary thing. We all have that power when we get in the driver seat, and I cannot bring myself to accept it. It seems odd that I would not mind being in the passenger seat, but I trust my dad far more than I trust myself. He is a really, really good driver (except for his road rage problem).
More humorously, we had to call the Florida Highway Patrol and the officer came and filled out the report. The funny part is that he put in “W” for the race of the other woman (she was white) but left that box empty for my dad. :D I find that absolutely hilarious for some reason.
Also, I am very proud of my dad for not saying “fuck” at all (at least, aloud) during the accident. I know I would have if I had been driving. He did say “shit”, but honestly we use that word all the time in normal conversation, so no big deal.
Anyway, it has been a long day, so I am going to go to sleep now.