I spent last night at the Police station.
No seriously, I’m not kidding.
Dressed in nothing but a black trench coat and bizarrely orange-speckled skin, I must have looked like something out of the Rocky Horror Show with my disheveled hair and muddied face complete with bright white tear streaks.
Not my finest hour, but not exactly my choice either.
I was there to give a statement to Constable Dave because earlier that fateful evening, some unregistered fuck-wit (excuse my French) failed to stop at an intersection, slammed into my car and then proceeded to reverse and drive off.
It happened in a blink of an eye and I don’t think I’ve ever shaken so much in my entire life.
Lucky for me, I mustered enough brain power to memorize the asshole’s licence plate as I fumbled on the passenger seat floor looking for my phone to record the precious sequence.
Coincidentally, some extremely good samaritans witnessed the entire incident and stayed with me until the Police came to assist.
They kept me calm while I wailed like a banshee and erratically paced up and down the footpath barking information on the emergency line.
I’m forever grateful for their act of kindness and warmth during the entire situation and it’s strengthened my faith in humanity.
The impact came from the left passenger side and took out my entire front bumper, twisting the left wheel axle and rendering my poor car tow-worthy. I survived with all my limbs and physically I think I’m okay, but I can verify that mentally I’m inching closer to breaking point and may have to declare insanity soon!
Little to say, as soon as I finished giving my statement at the local cop shop I fell into bed a broken heap. I’m spent mentally and physically and this post is really a cheap alternative to therapy while I try to calm my mind and rest easy.
I know these last few days are meant to be hard and I’m all for challenges (such as mobile now refusing to work, throwing up at the sight of any food, left-field health scare just to keep it interesting…just pick one…).
But, for the love of God, can I please request no more large impacts involving hurtling steel and possible carnage? I’m sort of getting used to how my head looks and would like to use it for the greater good before you decide to lop it off.
Thank you and I sincerely hope you consider my plee,
P.S. The car that hit me was a black VT Commodore sedan, number plate was PUD792. If you spot this creep, please call Police on 000.