'Thud'
The last time I was in a car accident was around five years ago and I just had a new one last week. Actually I'm not fond of driving but I had to drive my father to the airport saturday, then drive my mother too on monday and pick up my brother tuesday and I was tired of running around the same road for days and maybe that's when it finally got me again.
The guy whom I crashed with was some old guy in his fifties and he was driving some old pick-up truck, that time I couldn't think straight anymore and I was smoking like hell, he kept telling me to take it easy and all. He was a very nice guy I swear, he took care of everything with his insurance and talked things over with the cop and all I ever did was stand at the corner and smoke.
A week later I had to get all these police reports from that cop so I could get the insurance company to fix my goddam car bumper. I had my accident around five in the afternoon and it was the night shift cop who handled my papers so I had to go to the police station at night. I didn't feel like holding on to the wheel for days now so I just took a ride and traffice was like hell at rush hour. I've never been to this police station on this side of the city, I got there way past seven and the police station looked like it was just the tip of the empire state building sprouting from the ground, there was no lights or anything around the place, it was dark but you wont feel bothered anyway, it was a police station for god's sake. There was no lobby when I got inside but the whole goddam ground floor was a jailhouse and the prison bars were right in front from where you came in, with all those inmates piled over like sick dogs in a pound.
There was a clerk at the side who had a statue of a saint giving out a peace sign and wearing this police cap on the table, maybe for the inmates to pray repentance and freedom from accross the bars. The clerk told me that the rest of the offices were upstairs, I went up and the second floor looked like your grandparents museum with all those gothic rails and rusting typewriters and steel cabinets that probably had doris day records inside them. The tables were pretty much rundown like the ones we had in high school and from where I sat there was a chalk board that wrote
This is not an ashtray
and an arrow pointing to where the chalks were placed at the edge. They could have just placed one goddam ashtray if everybody was looking for one.
I don't feel like writing about my whole car accident anymore, it bothers me so much at night that whenever I get to think of it, the goddam 'thud' rings in my head that I can't even get myself to sleep, hell I don't even feel like posting this one.
The guy whom I crashed with was some old guy in his fifties and he was driving some old pick-up truck, that time I couldn't think straight anymore and I was smoking like hell, he kept telling me to take it easy and all. He was a very nice guy I swear, he took care of everything with his insurance and talked things over with the cop and all I ever did was stand at the corner and smoke.
A week later I had to get all these police reports from that cop so I could get the insurance company to fix my goddam car bumper. I had my accident around five in the afternoon and it was the night shift cop who handled my papers so I had to go to the police station at night. I didn't feel like holding on to the wheel for days now so I just took a ride and traffice was like hell at rush hour. I've never been to this police station on this side of the city, I got there way past seven and the police station looked like it was just the tip of the empire state building sprouting from the ground, there was no lights or anything around the place, it was dark but you wont feel bothered anyway, it was a police station for god's sake. There was no lobby when I got inside but the whole goddam ground floor was a jailhouse and the prison bars were right in front from where you came in, with all those inmates piled over like sick dogs in a pound.
There was a clerk at the side who had a statue of a saint giving out a peace sign and wearing this police cap on the table, maybe for the inmates to pray repentance and freedom from accross the bars. The clerk told me that the rest of the offices were upstairs, I went up and the second floor looked like your grandparents museum with all those gothic rails and rusting typewriters and steel cabinets that probably had doris day records inside them. The tables were pretty much rundown like the ones we had in high school and from where I sat there was a chalk board that wrote
This is not an ashtray
and an arrow pointing to where the chalks were placed at the edge. They could have just placed one goddam ashtray if everybody was looking for one.
I don't feel like writing about my whole car accident anymore, it bothers me so much at night that whenever I get to think of it, the goddam 'thud' rings in my head that I can't even get myself to sleep, hell I don't even feel like posting this one.
posted by Lib at 10:19 PM
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