October 18, 2012
Seems like half the vehicles on the road are a form of truck, SUV or van. Some sit high off the road, so high that the driver can't see what's behind. I was walking through the Food Lion parking lot this morning when one of those big-mother vans backed our of a parking space and into this little-mother, slamming all of my 60 inches to the ground -- hard. Had the driver cut either right or left a wheel would have rolled over a body part, maybe my head. I screamed STOP and the lady driving rushed out of her van to see if I was OK. Somebody called 911, the police came to make a report and the EMS to check my vitals and bandage the deep scrapes. My first words to them: This was an accident. The driver probably couldn't see me through her rear-view mirror. She didn't mean to hit me. Paperwork too quite a while. In the end, the woman was given a summons for felony something-or-other and must appear in court. I think the van should share in the summons. I see TV ads for the car (can't remember the expensive brand) with the sensor that alerts the driver to a child approaching the rear of a moving vehicle. This is a luxury feature. Maybe it shouldn't be. Because the person walking slowly behind that van could have been a few inches shorter and a half-century younger. I learned something else from my van-versus-pedestrian experience: the location of groin and other muscles that complained loudly as the day progressed. Then, to add insult to injury, literally, on the way home I noticed that gas had dropped 12 cents a gallon since yesterday, when I filled my tank. You've heard of bad hair days. Thursday was an awful auto day.