By Patty Kreiser
Reason number 243 why I hate commuting: driving.
Driving is dangerous, especially if you’re me. I will admit I’m not the world’s greatest driver, but until recently, I’d never been in an accident. However, my accident-free driving record changed forever on Feb. 11. This was the day I was, to quote Dane Cook, struck by a vehicle.
No, I was not crossing the street as a pedestrian; I was driving home to take a nap before I had to go to the radio station later that day. Who knew nap time could be so dangerous?
As a commuter student for the past year and a half, I’ve taken the same road to and from the University: Stewart Avenue. You may be familiar with the intersection of Stewart and Franklin Avenues and how if you are coming from or going in certain directions, it is illegal to make a left turn.
Do you want to know why it’s illegal to make a left turn from some parts of that intersection? The main reason is probably because you’ll hit college students in their beat-up little piece-of-junk cars.
So what’s the big deal about getting into an accident? Accidents happen every day. Big deal. Well, this accident was ironic. I was hit by a police car. Yes, one of the people who are supposed to serve and protect us hit me.
Want to know why I was hit? Because the cop was making an illegal left turn. I guess the police are above the menial traffic laws that we laymen must abide by.
For the record, I was not at fault-it even says so on the accident report. I was going straight on a legal green light; he was making a left at the same light-even though by traffic law his options are turn right or continue going straight. Maybe he decided to take the path less traveled. Well, the road less traveled led to hitting my little ’98 Ford, lovingly called “Bam-Bam.” (Yes, I named my car “Bam-Bam.”)
In my 19 years of existence, I had never been in an accident. As much as Daddy loves to use the steering wheel as a drum rather than for its actual use-to steer the car-I’ve never been in an accident with him behind the wheel.
Mom hates to drive; the farthest she’ll drive is the grocery store. Needless to say, she’s never been in an accident. Actually, that’s a lie: the Wonder Bread truck hit her parked car in the grocery store parking lot. The Frito Lay guy ratted out Mr. Wonder Bread, but that doesn’t count since she wasn’t in the car.
Anyway, I digress. The point of my parents’ driving history was to demonstrate that I didn’t know how to act in this situation.
As I pulled over to the side of the road, I remembered what my high school driver’s ed instructor said: Show your license, registration and insurance information. Besides crying like a baby, that’s all I remembered to do.
In retrospect, I think crying was the best thing I could do in this situation. I guess the cops pitied the crying girl who’d never been in an accident; or perhaps they didn’t know what to do with such an emotionally fragile girl. Ladies, it’s times like these that crying and playing the damsel in distress helps. Guys, I guess you’re out of luck.
Thank heavens I wasn’t physically hurt. Imagine if I were-the police would have a hysterical and hurt victim.
When my mom came home from work that afternoon, my dad told her what happened: struck by a vehicle…a police vehicle, to be specific…hysterically crying…not physically hurt, etc., etc.
My mom came up to my room, and before I could say anything to her, she burst out laughing.
What the heck, Ma? Aren’t you supposed to be comforting me? Instead, my mom was laughing at me. She said, “Think about it: you were hit by a cop.”
Looking back, I guess it is funny. I was hit by a cop. I was hit by a cop.
As funny as it is, I hope it doesn’t happen again, even though it makes a good story…now.
Patty Kreiser is a sophomore broadcast journalism major. You may e-mail her at pkreis1@pride.hofstra.edu.