Slammed

Okay, so...Two Gays, a Mexican and a drunk doctor walk into a bar full of porn.

No, no...That's not quite right.

There are two Gays, a Mexican and a drunk doctor in an airplane and only two parachutes and a bunch of porn magazines.

No, no...That's not it either.

There are two Gays, a Mexican and a drunk doctor. The two Gays and the Mexican are stopped at a red light. The drunk doctor PLOWS his Porsche into the Mexican's NEW Toyota, which smashes into the two Gays' truck. And then, the porn goes flying.

Yes. Now, we've got it.

On Saturday, around 5:30 pm, Will and I were in a three car accident.

We were on our way to Will's folks place to take care of the horses, which we do in the evening. There's nothing quite as grounding as picking up shit (except falling in it). Seriously. It doesn't matter whether it's horse shit, cow shit, dog shit or cat shit. I think that everyone should do it on a regular basis. And if they can't, or won't? Then...I don't know, there should be some kind of "Shit-Pick-Uping Patrol" that makes them do it...for humility's sake.

Anyway, we were sitting behind a large SUV at a stop light. A stop light that we're at no less than 12 times a week. We were sitting there talking about what time we should leave for Los Angeles that evening. My oldest brother Chris was flying in for the evening and we were going to meet him for dinner.

All of a sudden, we heard screeching tires. "WTF???" For a split second I thought, "Thank god it's not us." That's when I felt the slam.

Car parts flew by the windows and broken glass came flying in the cab of the truck.

Will had pressed down on the brakes even more, so the truck didn't budge.

We were both out of the truck before I knew it. I was already dialing 911 (Emergency for any of you not in the States) and running to the cars trying to see if either of the guys were hurt. I tripped over my skirt and my hair extensions went flying from the impact, but that's a whole other story.

The Latino guy managed to squeeze out of the other side of his car (which was totaled and still had the temporary tags on it) and the dude in the Porsche was moving slowly. I kept asking Will if he was okay. He was. I was. We were both okay, thank god.

So, I could barely understand the faint voice of the 911 operator, but she was asking me if anyone needed an ambulance. When the driver of the Porsche squeezed out of his mangled car, which was now looking like a permanent part of a guard rail, he said he was okay and didn't need an ambulance.

His eyes were teary and red and he kept saying that he was sorry. I was still talking with the operator, but thought that he was just shook up from the accident.

After he emerged from his vehicle, he was stumbling a bit and then he headed for the front trunk of his Porsche. I was still talking with the operator when I saw him rummaging through his things in his trunk. He was gathering a bunch of PORNO magazines that were loose in the trunk into a pile and putting them into a small bag.

Because that was the LAST THING I expected to see at that moment, it didn't quite register. When the operator asked how everyone was, I almost mentioned it. I almost said, "The Latino gentleman is fine, his car is completely totaled, but he's okay. He's standing right near me and is a little shook up. The dude from the Porsche is just gathering his porn up. So, everyone seems to be fine."

After I hung up, it dawned on me and I turned to Will and frowned and said, "WAS THAT PORN??" Will motioned yes. And I just looked at him as we exchanged "What the hell?" looks and started laughing.

And it became GLARINGLY apparent that he was drunk...or on some serious meds. He could barely stand up.

The woman who was in front of us was nice enough to stay behind in case we needed a witness. She was extremely nice and funny. But, we could barely understand a word she was saying because she had noticeably just recently had her lips injected with what looked like too much collagen...or small tires. While she talked, her lips just kept flapping together like they had minds of their own. And she sounded something like this, "I'mmbbb goinbbbb tobbb staybbbb innbbb casesbbb..."

She meant well.

So, the highway patrol really took a long time coming. I suppose because we didn't need an ambulance, it wasn't exactly an emergency. But, when the cops arrived, they were great. They were nice and direct and got right down to business. They didn't seem to notice my skirt (as much as I kept trying to do the "bend and snap" in front of them) and were polite enough to not mention anything about my hair extensions, which had joined the shattered glass and chunks of metal that littered the accident scene.

The rest of the incident was rather uneventful. The guy who caused the whole thing, well, his wife showed up and was told to stand away from anyone who was involved in the accident. The cops only wanted to deal with those of us who were involved, understandably.

So, I would catch glimpses of her standing on a small grassy beyonce knoll nearby, while she glared at her husband shaking her head. He was no doubt going to get it when they got home...and I highly doubt that "getting it" was going to have anything to do with her hair pie. Unless she was a dominatrix and he liked S&M, then he was probably in luck.

Speaking of hair pies, Will and I were a little perplexed about the whole "porn thing". I initially thought he might be hiding it from his wife. But then Will said, "What kind of porn do you have to hide?" Neither one of us got a close look at it, so we both just kept hoping it wasn't kiddie porn...And why was it LOOSE all over his trunk???

I wasn't mad at the guy. I actually felt sorry for him. He looked pathetic. Standing there looking as though he was going to fall over at any moment. But after we were told that we could go, and we still drove down to Los Angeles to see my brother, I started to get pissed.

As we were driving down to LA on the freeway, I watched as people MINDLESSLY careened around us driving at speeds of around 100mph, literally drag racing on crowded LA freeways. I started to think of how just a few feet made so much difference. A few feet to the right and he could've killed us all.

I don't know yet if they cited him or arrested him. I KNOW that he shouldn't have been driving. I don't know what he was on, but he was on SOMETHING. I don't know if maybe they were waiting until the rest of us left the scene to arrest him in order to save him some embarrassment?? I dunno.

What I do know is that had there been a family in that little Toyota, the outcome would've been different. His concern wouldn't have been his fucking porn. It would've been seeing and hearing people scream from a mangled piece of metal that HE twisted.

We were all lucky that day. But he could've changed our lives forever, or taken them. And I no longer feel sorry for him.