Sorry I Hit You (I Have to Go)

I'll always remember the day Walter Soine, then 90, smashed into the back of my car.

There I was, sitting at an intersection on a stretch of road that runs straight for a mile - the only car on the road. In broad daylight, Walter somehow failed to see the red light he was nearing or notice that I was stopped. About 30 yards before the intersection, Walter slammed on his brakes before plowing into me. (Insert loud screeching noises he probably couldn't hear.)

Walter and I still haven't officially met - largely because he didn't even get out of his car after hitting me. Not only that, he didn't even break his 10-and-two grip or put his car in park.

I didn't know if this was a display of arrogance, unawareness or confidence that his Buick (surprise) was not damaged (built like a brick shit house). Even if he would have killed me, wiped the road with my brains, I don't think he would remember my name because he's completely senile.


I was pissed off. Irate. I got out and approached Walter, oblivious, still sitting in his car. I had never been in an accident, and never did I imagine I'd have to explain to the other person what happened and why I was loitering around their car on a now-busy road. It seemed to me that both parties involved would understand the events that just took place... and get out of their cars.

I was wrong.

He thought I was one of those people collecting change for charity. Sorry, Walt, but I'm collecting for damages today.


Walter should not have a driver's license. He's clearly incapable of driving safely. I couldn't even communicate with the guy.

"Can I please get your driver's license and insurance information?"

I would assume that anyone in his position would be able to process my request, let alone understand what the hell I was asking for and why.

All I got was an, "Ehhhhhh?!"

Was he human? Looked like it. Maybe he was past his expiration date or something. Alas, 15 minutes later I think he finally caught on. Throughout the entire dilemma, he never put together a coherent sentence or used any real words for that matter. At one point I thought he tried to say "card" or "brake," but when I inquired about what he was saying he just continued to moan, "Ahhhhhh!"


Senior citizens like Walter, like my own grandparents, should have their driver's licenses revoked if they do not have the capacity to drive safely. For those who complain and argue their rights, they should be given large, red styrofoam cars incapable of harming anyone, even at top speeds.

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