Sucky Suckerson of Suckville

Last week sucked. It wasn’t 100%-sucking-every-moment suck, but it sucked overall. The death of my Dad was off the charts of the Suck Scale, of course, and it doesn’t get any suckier than that. Then on Friday, I got into an accident at Horton St. and Wharncliffe Rd. in London. My pretty little red Kia took the brunt of the suckiness, although the other guy’s vehicle didn’t fare much better. 

It was raining. People’s windows were fogged up. I noticed a few of them through my clear windows. I approached the intersection and the light turned amber. It was too late to stop safely, so I went through. Mr. Coming Toward Me proceeded to turn left anyway, ergo our connection. I tried to stop. I tried to avoid him. There was no time. Both of our vehicles were rendered undrivable. My tow truck came within minutes. His arrived about 45 minutes later even though he was blocking traffic. His should have been a higher priority call. But when I saw him walk into the Police Reporting Centre soaked to the skin, I noted that I normally would have felt empathy. But under the circumstances… Did you know that it’s your responsibility to make sure the intersection is clear before you turn? So, you tell the police that the light was red and you hand off half of the responsibility to the other driver. I didn’t even argue. What’s the point? Just get it done. At least no one was seriously hurt although my old neck injury is squawking as I write this.

My pal Jason nailed it on Facebook: A nuisance. My insurance company is very responsive and despite the backlog at the PRC, I was in a rental car, driving home, within about two hours of the sound of crunching metal. And I was making up one-liners along the way. When someone asks, what happened?, I could come back with – well, the windshield on that side needed replacing anyway! Or, this is the only way I could think of to get to test drive a new Camry!

Now comes the expense and the waiting. There’s a deductible on the repairs and my insurance rate no doubt will go up. It’s part of the risk you take when you head out on the road. This is my third collision since moving to London. The first one was a solo act and entirely my fault. The second was the result of a man driving foolishly and entirely his fault. I knew from the start that this type of collision would be split 50/50, fair or not. It’s the nature of the beast.

Driving hasn’t been fun for me for a long time. In recent months it’s been something I’ve had to get through, rather than enjoy. I know I drive when I’m too tired. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be able to get to work or to see my Dad who was two hours away. There’s no transit running at the start of my schedule and even if there was, I would feel vulnerable if I took it. Taxis, Ubers – spending money on them with a car in the driveway is wasteful and would limit my freedom of errand-running and general roaming. As of this moment, I can’t afford a personal chauffeur and car – but that could change! If it does, I’ll be sure to post a full profile of my driver on this page. 🙂