Careless

I'm kicking it old school at the beginning of this post by flashing back to eleventh grade English class.

There's a scene in The Great Gatsby where Nick admonishes Jordan for being such a shitty driver. It goes like this...

"You're a rotten driver," I protested. "Either you ought to be more careful, or you oughtn't to drive at all."

"I am careful."

"No, you're not."

"Well, other people are," Jordan said lightly.

"What's that got to do with it?"

"They'll keep out of the way," she insisted. "It takes two to make an accident."

"Suppose you met somebody just as careless as yourself."

"I hope I never will," she answered. "I hate careless people..."

I'm not a fan of careless drivers either. My sister often rolls her eyes during road trips and deems me "a grandma", but, honestly, I probably make Betty White look like Dale Earnhardt. I always signal when pulling into parking spaces. I don't generally speed more than five miles over the limit. My hands don't leave the "ten" and "two" position. Ever.

Three days ago, I was in a five car pile-up, and somehow I ended up driving away without a scratch on myself or even my car. I almost felt like it hadn't even happened when I called my mom later that night; there was no dented fender or broken glass, no bruises on me, no scratched paint... even my license plate was still perfectly intact.

Lucky doesn't even begin to describe how I made out.

It was an eerie feeling knowing that I was about to be hit, though. There I was, at a stoplight on Broad Street in pouring rain, when I heard squealing tires and the sickening sounds of the first crash. This was quickly followed by another... and another... and another. When I finally realized that the sound was coming behind me, it was too late. I was the proverbial "sitting duck", trapped at the light. The SUV behind me slammed into my bumper, my body wrenched forward, and the force caused my car to skid about two feet.

Two hours later, I went from "sitting duck" to remarkably "lucky duck". After all the serious stuff (police reports, fire-fighters, frantic call to Dan), I was home safe and saying an extra prayer for the first two drivers who both went to the hospital with whiplash injuries. I was so grateful, so relieved to be safe... and kinda scared about driving.

Ever since then, I can't seem to relax when getting to work. I keep looking over my shoulder, trying to be vigilant about spotting the next careless driver who might collide into me.

I should have been more freaked out by the serious accident I was in last year. A teenager ran a red light and slammed into the driver's side, which caused me to propel into oncoming traffic. Again, I was lucky. All the approaching cars managed to skid to a stop, and I climbed out unscathed.

My mangled car did not make out nearly as well...

Here's the weird part. Even though my car was totaled and I was certainly more banged up, I never felt that scared to drive after accident #1. I had no prior warning that I was about to be hit by the teenager, whereas in the most recent (much less serious) encounter, I heard that domino effect coming several seconds before I was hit.

I think I'm more anxious now because I feel like I should have been able to do something to avoid the accident in those few seconds (move up, veer over, anything!) Irrational, I know. I'm just chalking it up to me being a hopelessly careful person.

Better than careless, I suppose.