that other time I stepped in front of a car

I almost got hit by a car today. Not through any fault of the driver's, but because I stepped out of my car, and began to walk through a parking lot while looking down at my feet (something felt weird with my shoes, ok?!). And the thing is, I almost never go to this place for lunch because I know the parking lot to be so busy - the cars speed around trying to beat each other out for the seldom found spot. And yet I still did not look up before stepping out in front of traffic.

And this brought to mind another time when I actually did get hit by a car. And if you are reading this write now you have probably known me a long time and know this story already, and in that case, you can stop reading now. Why don't you check out one of the links instead? We both know you don't want to work. But just in case you don't know, I'll relate it for you now, as best as I can remember.

Once a (not so very long) time ago I was a little college freshman. And one fine fall day (I think it was fall - it could have been spring? It was definitely a nice day in a season when you often need a coat, but on this particular day the sun is out and so are the students and the weather is just perfect.) Anyway, I was leaving the dreaded, hateful engineering computer lab. (Why I hated this particular computer lab so much I no longer remember. But hate it I did. It felt like the kind of place that kills sunshine and makes babies cry.) The point is, I was really happy to be leaving. And what's better is that I was leaving to have lunch. Lunch with some friends! My friend Megan and I were skipping happily out to go meet some comrades at the dining hall.

To reach the dining hall we needed to cross a small street that ran through the campus. It was in the middle of a weekday, right in a prime change-of-classes time, so most of the traffic was foot traffic - and as I said already, there was a lot of it. I wasn't looking at my feet this time, though. We looked to our left, saw a car coming in the distance that we could easily beat, and began our walk before really taking a good look to the right. (It was college, the students acted like they owned the roads, anyway.) To our right was a hill, and coming down the hill at high speed was a guy on a bike. Because I am a polite southern lady (and not a little wench like some people) I stopped in the middle of the street to let the biker glide by, but my so called friend took off at a sprint, attempting the unlikely feat of beating the biker, and also leaving me behind.

The biker realized he was about to collide head-on with my friend (have I mentioned yet that my position made more sense?) and began trying to screech to a stop, and at the same time swerved to avoid hitting her. And what path did this put him in? Mine, naturally. So he and I were staring at each other in the eye, he trying his best to break, and me staring stone-footed, wondering what it was going to feel like to be run over by a bicycle. (Perhaps it would have made sense at this point to move out of the way, but I didn't start this post talking about how smart I am.)

Just as I was bracing myself to be run over from the front, I was hit by a car from behind. Because that car we had seen when we first crossed the street? It had caught up with us. When I've told this story before, I've taken some criticism for standing in the middle of the street, like, "Well of course you got hit by a car!" But in my defense, this car was going REALLY slowly! How could he not see me? And how hard was it to avoid me? I may not be tiny, but I did not take up half that lane. And this was college - there were always kids walking all over the streets - it didn't seem that unusual at the time.

So lucky for me the car was going slowly, and there was no dramatic cracking of the windshield or anything like that, in fact, although it did knock me off my feet, I landed right back on them! (How 'bout that? I am like a cat! Nimble and fleet-footed! Or maybe I'm like Spider Man! I like that even better.) On my feet, but barefooted. One of my shoes was left exactly where I had been standing pre-collision, and the other had flown many yards away. The stdent driving the car pretty much freaked out. He jumped out and grabbed my shoulders and shouted a lot about how sorry he was and hugged me and all that stuff. The whole time I was laughing like an idiot. A shocked, embarrassed, idiot laugh. Students everywhere were staring and pointing and talking. One of my roommates heard the talk from the top of the hill, walked to where she could get a view, recognized me, and came running and yelling at a full sprint. (She sometimes over-reacts.)

Unfortunately, this is not quite the end of the story. Because also on that day? The little old men in their suits with their New Testament Bibles were positioned all over grounds! You know the ones I'm talking about? And you know how cute they are? (I can't help but think that old people are cute. I don't care if it's demeaning. They are.) Well, one of them had been standing across the street with his little box of Bibles, and when he saw me get hit, he immeadiately stepped out into the street to come help me. He stepped out right into the path of another biker racing down the same hill, and poor little man and his Bibles - they went down. Hard.

At least this was what I learned afterwards. I was too self-absorbored to really notice. I mean, I finally walked to lunch (after a nice young man gathered my shoes for me and tried to persuade me that I really needed to go to the hospital, and after I had promised the driver of the car to call him and let him know I was okay), I did notice the elderly man in the suit laying on his back on the street, not looking too well, but what did I do? I walked on by. Still giggling like a freak. And clutching my jacket until someone pointed out that my knuckles were white. I'm a real giving person like that.

Later that day my roommates brought home tales of hearing this story repeated - always amid much laughter. The chain of pedestrian clobbering events that I started. And I did not go to a small school, so this was fairly remarkable. I am glad I could bring some happiness to some people's days.

Afterward:
For a long time after this I had a fear of crossing the street. And even if I was walking down the sidewalk, and heard the sound of wheels behind me (like rollerblades or a skateboard) I would freeze in fear. So that time when I was crossing a street that really was really busy and traffic drove really fast and did NOT stop for students, and you, Andy Zulauf, held me in the middle of the street to face the oncoming cars and did not care how much I screamed?? That was NOT cool. Not cool at all.