8:10 am, PP is trying to get on the stupid freeway in the stupid commuter zone to swim in the stupid morning before the stupid sun is at its stupid zenith.
Glancing down Hudson Street, she sees the carpooler cars lined up, collecting passengers for their heinous commute across the Bay Bridge. The signal is red, so of course, PP is waiting till the coast is clear to make her turn. But it’s hard. The carpooler cars are crazed and spastic. It’s difficult to tell whether they’re gonna go on their green light or keep idling in line for their passengers.
So, PP waits. And waits. And waits. Seems like over a minute, but probably just 30 seconds or so till…..
Goddamn it. Some idiot has just rear-ended her! PP feels the thud, her neck snapping back minutely.
PP glances in her rearview mirror. A crazed caffeine deprived (obviously, or he wouldn’t have hit PP’s geo) is gesticulating wildly behind his windshield. Are they gestures of apology? Anger? Frustration?
It’s hard to tell. PP knows the protocol is to pull over and exchange car license insurance info, but where to pull over as the light turns green, finally, in her favor? Also, does she really wanna confront this guy face to face?
So she gets on the freeway, the Crazed Rear Ending Guy still bouncing wildly round in his seat as he accelerates up the ramp behind her.
PP’s been hit by a nutcase. Great. Well, of course he’s a nutcase; otherwise he wouldn’t have hit her.Though to give him the benefit of the doubt, PP realizes that she mighta been takin her foot on and offfa the break in anticipation of the carpooling spazes….so he mighta thought she was going when in fact, she wasn’t!
“Damn! damn!! Shit !!!!Shit!!!” PP hisses aloud as she creeps onto the traffic laden highway. This is one of the many reasons she hates to swim in the morning! The goddamn traffic. And now a goddamn accident.
Yet was it really an accident? PP thinks not. Though what if her neck is hurt? Damn. She shoulda stopped. Gotten his info. Sued him for a million bucks. That would solve all her job woes. Hell she could buy an indoor pool and swim at any time of the day.
Damn! Why hadn’t she stopped?
PP watches as CRRG speeds away. A ratty old white Honda? Acura? PP strains to get the license number….MUH431? Yes. Remember this and then look it up on the DMV website and get his info and sue him…
Yeah, right. PP knows that even if this were possible, she’s just not the suing type. Some people are. She can hear her friend, Miss W, goin on and on. You could sue the asshole and make a mint and quit your stupid job at stupid FFU and then ….
PP sighs as she pulls offa the freeway at the Mills College exit, MacArthur. Parks in the pool lot. (This is one advantage of swimming in the morning--there’s plenty of parking. Hell it might be the ONLY advantage!)
PP gets out. Inspects the bumper. It’s fine. ‘Bumpers’ good. That’s the geo motto. And it’s true. But what about her neck? What if the asshole had hurt her with the impact? Damn.
PP sighs as she heads into the pool to bother the anatomy studying Cute Girl. “How’s the anatomy going today?”
CG grins, she’s more animated today. “It’s going.”
“It’s the same as it always is.” Some Smart Ass Lifeguard Guy that PP has never seen announces.
“Actually, no it isn’t!” CG exclaims. “There’s all sorts of things that they’re discovering that they don’t know what they are! They find these organs and they look at it and say, now what’s this? And they don’t know!”
“Really?” PP’s intrigued. Maybe the CRRG is missing a vital organ that directs the motor capabilities. Or he has an extra organ that keeps telling him to step on the gas even if there’s a car stopped in front of him!
PP grins. Yeah, that musta been it, as she collects her pool equipment from CG and heads into the locker room, rubbing her neck in tender worry as she plops her gym bag down on the bench.