Three years ago, I got into a car accident with my first car I ever had.
I was coming back home from MechaCon 9 after meeting most of the Mighty Morphin’ Power Rangers and on the Causeway/spillway/bridge whatever the hell that long road is above water.
Okay, it’s a one way.
So why is the bigass white van/jeep street beast of the week trying to make a left turn?
Needless to say, in what felt like a moment, about a forth of my car was scraped from underneath this damn thing and I’m looking dead at the woman who just happened to “pass out”.
My car was underneath hers but she’s the one that’s hurt?
I figured I was gonna undergo some sort of legal stuff but what I struggled with was the idea that somehow I was responsible for her injuries. My Saturn (which I dubbed “Clown Car” because of how small it is) was crushed under this god-dang behemoth and totaled but somehow I’m the guy that gotta cover all this ground to go to court and talk to all these lawyer types and such and consistently explain that I ran into a woman trying to make a quick left on a one way bridge.
I may sound like a judgmental douche..and that’s because I am a judgmental douche but judging by her vehicle, age and destination, it’s pretty safe to say that she’s one of the affluent types and either her or her sociopathic insurance company is looking to bleed out some financially unstable black guy just to fill their insatiable ego.
It’s stuff like this that made me Pro-Sanders for as long as I was.
Rich people are the cancers of this country and have been since the freakin’ 20s.