Pedestrian Hit By Van

We’ve recently seen a number of stories about folks hit by cars, stories that conclude with far from happy endings. So, in order to add a little balance to the overall picture, here’s one incident that didn’t turn out quite so badly.

The love of my life had gone ahead to the end of the Monterey Fisherman’s Wharf  to catch her whale watching boat. I had opted out, based on my strong conviction that whales have a right to privacy and should be allowed to pursue their whalish lives in peace, without being subjected to constant ogling by strange creatures leaning over the railings of strange floating contraptions. But anyway, with time to kill, I was now slowly making my way down the wharf, checking out the restaurants and tourist traps that line both sides.

As those of you who have been to this wharf will recall, it is basically a pedestrian walkway, but there are a few vehicles creeping around to service the restaurants with food, and restock the stores. So there I was, moseying along without a care in the world, when I suddenly felt an impact just under my left shoulder blade that was forceful enough to launch me smartly forward. As luck would have it, I was just able to keep my feet, and one of the tourists nearby was good enough to pick up my hat and hand it to me.

Now I have taken some hits in my life and various falls from ladders, motorcycles, and mountainsides. And from these experiences I tend to know whether I’m seriously hurt, or not. In this case what I had received was more of a shove than a bump, and I really wasn’t hurt at all. So when the driver of the van that hit me came running around the front of his vehicle in great distress, I was not inclined to go too hard on him.

“Are you O.K.? Are you hurt?” he kept asking, no doubt distraught over possible police reports, insurance hassles, and more serious unpleasantries which often accompany these situations. But now, in view of his deep concern for the state of my health, rather than letting him off scot-free, I decided to offer him a catharsis by allowing him to make a small atonement for his sin of omission in failing to see me. And maybe have a little fun in the bargain. So I said to him:

“I’m not much for medical evaluations, attorneys, and all that stuff, so I think we can settle this thing right here and now.”

His questions stopped abruptly and he looked at me speechless and uncomprehending. I continued:

“How about five bucks for hitting me with your van? 

But instead of jumping at this eminently reasonable proposal, he only seemed to become further confused, to where he was unable to grasp the fact that he was within five Washingtons of tapping this ball clean through no doubt the stickiest wicket he had encountered in quite a while, or maybe ever. But he simply couldn’t respond. 

And so, recognizing that he was suffering a lot more than I was, I changed direction, patted him on the shoulder, and said to him (like the Wells Fargo tellers always suggest), “Have a nice rest of your day.”  

At that, I walked off to continue my stroll along the wharf, feeling I had done the right thing after all, and no doubt leaving behind me (once he came to his senses and realized how it had all turned out) one mightily relieved van driver.

Read more from Mac McCurdy here.