Just Call Me Slick

Last year about this time, The Sugar had a car accident.  He didn’t just have an accident.  He totaled his car. 

It was a Sunday morning, and he had gone to work off-the-clock to tidy up some issues at his job.  When he got there, he realized that he had forgotten his key to get in the building.  Now becoming agitated, he drove home to get his key, knowing that he had just shot a huge chunk of his day.  By his own admission, his vehicle was traveling at an excessive rate of speed.  It was shortly after this that my phone rang.

Here we pause with some need-to-know information.  It had rained the entire day and night before.  There was no standing water by the time he left home on Sunday morning.  But the conditions were perfect for the “Hydroplane” to take off.

So.  My phone rang, I answered and he announced that he had just been involved in a car accident, and he believed it was rather bad.  I asked where he was, he said near home, and then the phone went dead.  The phone, not the caller. 

I hustled up and gathered some things to take, like damp towels, washcloths, the cellphone, my purse.  The phone rang again, and The Sugar announced that he had just been involved in a car accident, and that he believed it was rather bad. 

This wasn’t sounding good.  He was delusional.

I headed out not far from his house, and saw him up ahead standing on the side of the road next to his broken car.  My cell phone rang, and he said, “Where are you?  Are you coming?”  I said, “I’m right here.  I can see you.”

I pulled into a driveway and parked my car.  I could see he was standing with another unidentified man, who turned out to be a fellow who lived in one of the houses nearby who came to help.  The Sugar was dirty and disheveled.  He was shaking from the cool air and the shock of smashing his car.  I gave him my jacket and made him sit in my car while I took pictures. 

These pictures begin with a survey of the crash scene from left to right.  He was traveling, that’s correct, from left to right, so keep that in mind when you see where his car ended up.

Absolutely amazing that he lived through that.  The nice EMS people came along and treated him, he refused to go to the hospital, we followed the wrecker to the junk yard, and he went home to a hot bath.  He never did make it to work.

Not his beer can in the ditch. Just happened to be there.

Has anyone seen the moon roof?

Oh, there it is.

The trunk popped open during the commotion.

The air bag never deployed, because...

He never hit head on. He only spun around and rolled a few times.

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6 Responses to “Just Call Me Slick”

  1. Simba Says:

    I suppose your date for the carnival was set back an hour or so?

    Like

  2. kari Says:

    I am so thankful our dear Sugar is ok.

    Like

    • ruthrawls Says:

      I can post pictures of his bloody head if you want. He thinks his head scraped on the pavement. Get this, he went to work two days later and NO ONE NOTICED ANYTHING WRONG.

      Like

  3. Becky Says:

    Whoa, to paraphrase what I heard a teenager say the other day “That was some scary ‘caca’!” Glad Sugar made it out of that okay.

    Like

    • ruthrawls Says:

      Here’s a little R’land moment: He’s just wrecked his car, he’s calling me on his cell phone, and a big SUV driven by some suspicious-looking characters pulls up next to his car. These enormous guys pile out of the SUV, they try to get his car door open, he thinks he’s being accosted, they reach in and take his cell phone away, and they PULL HIM OUT THE WINDOW TO SAFETY. They give his phone back to him and drive away, never to be seen again.
      So he calls me again on the cell phone and repeats himself. The big dudes were the reason for the hiccup between the cell phone calls.

      Like

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