This is not nearly as exciting as the title makes it out to be, but my feeling of invincibility has made me want to rip my shirt off yell this story on the streets.
I’ve grown to like New York a lot, despite the smelliness, the filth, the mean people and the expensiveness. But last week something happened to me that has changed my life.
I was on my way to work in the morning, walking down the street on Lexington Avenue to catch the subway. I was running late, so I was texting my boss about it while I walked across the street. The next thing I knew, a large black object appeared and I was on the ground.
Apparently the blinding sunrise made the driver of a black car unable to see me, so if his breaks hadn’t kicked in instantly, his car would’ve completely ran me over. Fortunately I am still alive because he realized I was there quickly and stopped the car, resulting in a pretty small impact that only anti-climactically shoved me to the ground.
The best part was, the shove was so subtle that I just landed calmly onto my butt cheek, therefore softening the fall. “Getting hit by a car” sounds pretty terrifying, but I ended up walking away with a tiny scratch on my wrist and a small bruise on my leg where the car shoved me. I’ve been hurt worse playing ultimate frisbee.
The even better part was, the shock of the incident made me scream like a little girl for a second, making a scene and attracting everyone’s attention. It wasn’t a busy morning, but within seconds people were running toward me and asking if I was ok. A woman said “I’m a nurse! Is your head ok?”
I was in total shock and only remember saying, repeatedly: “I’m ok! I landed on my butt!! I landed on my butt!” (Almost triumphantly.)
The driver of the car looked like he was about to shit his pants. I didn’t know the protocol, so I stood there confused with my trembling hands as he asked to exchange our phone numbers, I guess in case any permanent damages result from the incident so I can sue him. I didn’t even get his name, so now I have a “Guy Who Hit Me With His Car” in my contacts.
As I walked away, more by-standers kept asking if I was ok and whether I hit my head. I kept saying I felt fine, and “Thanks for asking! I gotta go to work now!”
My only regret of the incident was not forcing the guy to just drive me to work that morning. I ended up being 30 min late, but with a really awesome story to tell my boss (and everyone I know, for that matter). The incident has taught me to stop texting while walking, and to take advantage of the people who are scared shitless of being sued next time this happens.
Lena Morris 