And the third accident
Jun. 28th, 2012 04:28 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
xylieThis would be Jim's third accident in the CR-V. This is not to say that I am an especially good driver, just that I tend to drive less, in less hellish conditions and when I do drive I tend to do it with the grim Germanic conviction that everyone is in fact out to get me.
We were headed home from the Giant's Game. We left after an ice cream and hot chocolate in the 7th inning in the hopes of escaping traffic. Unfortunately we were parked along the pier in what Jim generically termed as GRIM. I was more flippant after a night out of death defying heights and asked him politely if he thought we'd run into Thomas and Sarah Wayne on our way home.
Fortunately his parents let him out enough that he gets that joke. Now and then I get tripped by the differences in our upbringing.
We headed home through what can only be described as the usual sort of San Francisco joke on tourists. Street signs that promised a freeway for several blocks, yet failed to exactly deliver. We cut over using our knowledge of the area and headed back to Loral, where I'd left the van.
Several things went wrong at first. 101 at that stretch lacks a shoulder. The Jersey barriers come right up to the lane line. A gentleman for no apparent reason was stopped in the slow lane. A kid who had just learned how to drive was stopping to deal with the situation. We were right behind him.
Anyone who's been in an accident says that it happened so fast. I guess we are expected to say this. The truth is that time seems to slow down if you can anticipate the outcome. And you're stuck with your brain having completed calculations that your body will simply have to wait to live out.
We walked away. I guess that is something.
We were headed home from the Giant's Game. We left after an ice cream and hot chocolate in the 7th inning in the hopes of escaping traffic. Unfortunately we were parked along the pier in what Jim generically termed as GRIM. I was more flippant after a night out of death defying heights and asked him politely if he thought we'd run into Thomas and Sarah Wayne on our way home.
Fortunately his parents let him out enough that he gets that joke. Now and then I get tripped by the differences in our upbringing.
We headed home through what can only be described as the usual sort of San Francisco joke on tourists. Street signs that promised a freeway for several blocks, yet failed to exactly deliver. We cut over using our knowledge of the area and headed back to Loral, where I'd left the van.
Several things went wrong at first. 101 at that stretch lacks a shoulder. The Jersey barriers come right up to the lane line. A gentleman for no apparent reason was stopped in the slow lane. A kid who had just learned how to drive was stopping to deal with the situation. We were right behind him.
Anyone who's been in an accident says that it happened so fast. I guess we are expected to say this. The truth is that time seems to slow down if you can anticipate the outcome. And you're stuck with your brain having completed calculations that your body will simply have to wait to live out.
We walked away. I guess that is something.
