I am knackered and should probably not be writing…probably. Yet, here I am, fingers pounding away on a keyboard, which is how I blog. When I write, I use pen and paper, but that is a lengthy process, and not something my lack of sleep is willing to tolerate at the moment.
Earlier today I heard a story that I wanted to share because I like to share shit that is morbid and bizarre. Call it a tic, if you like. I am a blurter; if I have had a sexual dream about you, I will more than likely tell you about it, and in the most socially awkward of ways. I am special like that, but I digress. Recently a coworker was in a car accident, but not just any car accident, it is one of those odd ones that are worthy of retelling.
His version of the events area as follows: He was driving along the freeway at approximately 40 miles-per-hour when he was rear-ended. In the inevitable chaos and confusion of such an event, he was somewhat disoriented, but managed to begin to slow his car down. It was then that he heard a disembodied voice from within his car say, “bro, stop.”
Then, and only then, did he realize that that rear window of his car was shattered and that he had picked up a wayward passenger. He stated that he slowly applied the breaks while coming to grips with the fact that a motorcycle must have been the vehicle that had impacted his car, and that the driver was now firmly lodged in his rear seat
To hear him recount the moment of impact and realization that a human had been thrown headlong into his car was rather amusing. He and I sat around making jokes about the situation because it is hard to ignore the humor and absurdity of that moment. In the end it turns out he had merged into a lane at exactly the same time a motorcyclist had decided to change lanes. The driver of the bike admitted that he had looked behind him to merge, and when he looked forward, he saw the car, too late to stop.
The fact that the car was driving 40 mph and that the bike was going 60 mph is probably the only thing that saved the motorcyclist’s life. Had the car been going much slower, the rider would have likely would have gone over the top of the car and been run over before my pal could have stopped. From the pictures my friend and I deduced that the style of the bike also saved the rider’s life. It was a crotch rocket, so the fact that it impacted and end-overed, and thus sent the driver into the window, rather than over the top of the car was apparent.
My dad is a life-long motorcyclist and E.M.T. He and I both agree that the cyclist was lucky to be wearing a helmet because without it, he likely would have broken his neck, or worse, not shattered the window and gone over the top of the vehicle and squarely landed in front of it. Still, I am left with the amusement factor of my friend slowing down his car because he heard a very calm voice say, “bro, stop.”
That is all. As you were.