When I Need A Pick Me Up, by my friend Ryan King

Friday, April 25, 2008

In Which Our Hero Survives Again

Well, I threw up a YouTuber to avoid reporting the events of my yesterday.

I had another car accident.

I was heading in early to do an all-day training for my day job, and a pregnant woman in a minivan ran her STOP sign and plowed into my drivers side door.

As opposed to last time, I could do little to nothing to save myself. I did hit my brakes and I was wearing my seat belt and too, I threw my hands over my head and I'm sure I hollered, so that was the "little". Everything else was the "nothing" which fortunately also included not peeing my pants from terror.

None of my windows shattered this time, so she wasn't going too very fast, but fast enough to turn me 45 degrees, and score all four panels on my drivers side, plus crunch both doors enough to compromise the airseal so that now when I drive, the "Open Door" light is constantly on and the wind whistles. I can extend my fingers through the gaps.

Remember that ultra-cheap car insurance I bought for NYC living? Now it'll bite me in the arse. They're only open 9-5 for reporting accidents.

I went to the hospital this time because I wasn't sure. I felt a tightness in my neck and side, plus my thigh stung a little. I didn't get out of my car, so I let a father & son paramedic team stabilize my head and take me away in an ambulance. The son was 18, and his father seemed about my age, if not 5 years older. He kept saying that he was the rookie and he was following his son's lead. At 18, this kid's out rescuing accident victims? Superhero-in-the-making.

MFTD wants me to find a personal injury lawyer and get in the gravy train line. This morning, I find only a little stiffness. My body feels fine. So I don't know about getting a lawyer.

In my head, I never want to drive again.

And yes, the pregnant lady was okay. She told everybody at the scene that it was her fault, and so did all the witnesses. And it was. But she was pregnant, so of course the sympathy flowed in her direction first. (How else would I have known she was pregnant, except everyone with a vocal opinion had to say it aloud.) I didn't begrudge the crowd. I was hoping the baby wasn't hurt as well. But the Mom? I'd like to have slapped her.

And I continued to hate her for the following 8 hours.

Without being able to control these people on the roads, how can I guarantee my own safety? How much more easy would it have been to have been killed? How many more times in this high volume driving that my day job requires am I going to have a car accident?

So I'm not going to work today. And last night, I cancelled two of my most lucrative therapy cases (in that they pay the full rate, no insurance co-pay) because I was so sick of powerlessness.

And I never want to drive again, although I'm sure I will. But I want to ditch this car, stop paying high premium insurance and astronomically high-interest monthly car payments, and work exclusively on the island of Manhattan. Gas prices are doing what India.Arie said they were doing two years ago, "they just keep on risin' ". But she also said, "we gotta keep on survivn' keep living our truth and do the best we can do."

And then she said "There's Hope."

9 hours ago, Match Girl-I wrote me back, begging my pardon because she lost internet connection while on her vacation, then got caught up in "personal matters" and she hopes I'm doing well and she's wants to get back in touch. She says she hasn't burnt the bridge.

So either my geekdom did not chase her away, or she was handling another man while deciding if my geekdom was doable. And of course, for me, the exciting sheen has worn off. I'm glad I'm not as rejected as I thought I was, which would have been "permanently". And too, maybe I was not at all rejected. Maybe what she says is true.

But this is the real of relationships now. This is where it feels like most people live--somewhere between hope and disappointment. Our partners falling short of the ideal, and we settle. Take what we can get. Endeavor to work on giving in return of our get, even when we don't feel like giving.

Facts are, I had looked over a few more Match profiles but I really didn't want them. I like Match Girl-I's sense of humor better, and her diction, punctuation, and smile.


What a difference a day makes, right?

Oh, and the psychiatrist which was recommended to me is covered under my insurance, but she's going away for a few weeks before I can get the meds. If I get in a relationship with Match Girl-I before the psych gets back, I prolly won't need the meds.

I dunno.

Baby steps.

Now to modify this post with a meme;

Here are the rules:

1. link the person who tagged you. Q

2. mention the rules in your blog…

3. tell about 6 unspectacular quirks of yours

4. tag 6 following bloggers by linking them. leave a comment on each of the tagged blogger’s blogs letting them know they’ve been tagged

6 Unspectacular Quirks
a) I can ride a unicycle.

b) I used to be profoundly cross-eyed when I was a boy. When I "grew into it", it was then only "off," meaning I'd look at someone and talk to them, and they'd constantly be asking me, "Are you talking to me?" It took me as long as 1999 to get an operation to correct it. Meaning that only for the last 8 years, I've been looking people in the eye when I speak to them.

c) I've managed to save a few thousand dollars since I started my evening work in Manhattan. I owe friends roughly 8 times that amount in total.

d) I have survived two major car crashes in the last year and a half.

e) When I say to myself, "I'm probably as bisexual as any college girl with a few beers in her" I find that I'm actually okay with that.

I tag no one! But if you've read this and like it--OOPS! You're tagged now!


fringes said...

Match Girl is never a substitute for proper meds if the meds are indeed required. No person can take the place of your mental medical attention.

Yes, Match Girl got rejected by some other dude, so now she is feeling you out, hoping you're still available. Walk away. You deserve better.

Alan said...

Fringes, seriously? Because I can stop the pursuit, but I can also let her date around until she realizes I'm the best one for her. That's what you guys suggested for me to do with the other ladies, no? Except I couldn't ... but I don't mind that she could.

fringes said...

Was she upfront about it? No, she wasn't. Did she say: hey, I'm using my $14.99 a month subscription to its fullest, and it may take me awhile to get back to you? No. She claimed "vacation" and the ever-popular "no Internet connection".

Fine if people want to date around during this process, but liars are never acceptable. You deserve better.

Alan said...

Wow. I really wouldn't want her at all if she lied about the vacation, but she gave reasonable details for the trip and I took her word for that.

I could deal with her dating around if she had contained it all in the term "personal stuff" that she used. It isn't as though it's my business so early in the game.

And I realize I'm making excuses for her. Because I like her.

I think I have to date her in order to find out how much she deserves to be moved on from.

But I won't say I wasn't warned, Fringes. You have license to say "I Told You So."

Alan said...

and plus, there isn't anyone else.

The Neighbor said...

A few comments, if I may.

First, fringes is right - if you need meds, you need meds, and MG-I has nothing to do with it. Nothing.

Second, you live in NYC. Thre IS somebody else. It's a statistical certainty.

And as for dating her/the lies/whatever: I found that any number of small lies were told by and to me during my Match experience - up until you are personally accountable for another person's feelings - in that you know them and your actions have repercussions - I see little harm in small lies that preserve some measure of privacy. There is still trust to establish.

I would re-engage, at least to the meeting IRL point. The worst that will happen is that you will not be compatible. Or she'll go all Glenn Close on you. (Remember, that looked like fun at first.) But if there's no chemistry, meeting in person will usually tell you.

Life happens all at once - I see no reason for you not to chase after MG-I while you get your meds going and maybe snoop around for MG-II.

Alan said...

I'll probably feel more apt to snoop for MG-II with meds in me. I'd probably notice all these women you speak of here in NYC as well.

A story I neglected to tell--on the way to the convention last Saturday, on the A train, I was sitting across from a girl who was carrying a large swag bag. For the convention-noobs in our audience, this is something you carry all your free promotional goodies in as you go from exhibit to exhibit during. Easily, it could have been any other kind of bag, except she was wearing her convention badge around her neck. 134 blocks north of the convention, she was wearing her badge. And after a few stops, the venerable old woman sitting next to her made conversation and they struck up quite a nice, audible conversation (the old woman was hard of hearing). And the girl was unabashedly unashamed to say where she was going and what her bag was for.

Mind you, I was heading for the exact same location.

If that wasn't the Universe giving me a brightly packaged wrapped-with-a-bow gift, then I don't know what it was.

And what did I do? I sat in silence for the whole 134 block ride downtown, then forged a divergent path away as she went to the convention alone, and I did the same.

The whole ride down I was on the brink of asking "Did you go yesterday too? What panels did you see? I have friends in podcast alley. Do you listen to any podcasts? I produce one too. Have you ever seen Who Wants To Be A Superhero..?" But instead I stayed on the brink. That f&cking brink.

Yes, Match Girl-I or no, I will have meds.

GrizzBabe said...

I'm glad you're okay.

Kimberly said...

I'm so sorry to hear about your car accident. I'm really glad that you weren't seriously injured.

Vi said...

#Hey, you're alive! That's the main thing! If you can live without a car, do it. Unofrtunately I can't.