It was daylight. Early morning. There was an explosion. I came to and I found myself suspended sideways, onto my right side. I stared at my passenger door tweeter a few feet below me. It seemed really far, then. It’s a really nice brushed aluminum piece surrounding a chrome handle.
I heard voices. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah. I’m okay,” I said. I said it in a really sour tone, trying desperately to be appreciative and failing. My right palm and left knuckles were bloody and so was my shirt. My head throbbed. The chemicals from the airbags deploying were … unpleasant. Whatever.
After anything big happens to me – yes, even with an explosion – I always think, “Whatever.” Next.
There was confirmation thereafter that I could get out – and this came with the realization that I would have to unfasten the device that had saved me in the first place. I guarantee that before this past weekend, I’ve never had to watch where I might pivot 90 degrees and fall after unbuckling myself from my driver’s seat.
Saturday morning, I unclicked my seat belt before landing in the space where my passenger window used to be. I could feel the glass bits crunch under the clink of my black motorcycle boots. I could hear them against the ground, against my teeth – I could taste them in my mouth.
I stood up and looked around. Put my forearms on my ragtop sill and saw about 8 Midcity West neighbors on the spot – after all, I had woken them up. And I had hit one of their parked cars.
“Hey, wanna get outta there?” a nice guy asked.
Get out of where? Where was I? And this car that … surrounded me? There was no way that this was my car. My car was an electric blue stunner. My car had four wheels on the ground with a wheelbase almost as long and wide as the car itself. My car is four years old and not one scratch on it to be found – not even a bumper kisser. Please let me wake up now.
My palm blood stained the back of the kind stranger’s shirt as he hoisted my 120 units out of her driver window. Chelsea’s driver window. That was my window. My car has a name. Just like Judy Jettason had a name before her. I have had conversations with Chelsea and greeted her everytime I came back to her. I congratulated her on her “whirr’s” everytime her Supercharger propelled us along fast (no turbo lag). I’d console her that I’d be back soon everytime I left her in the garage or on the street. I said “good night” to her after dusk.
When I landed on the glass-covered ground I kept walking to the other side of the intersection. And then I had a fit. “Noo!!” I shouted. “No, no, no, noooo…” as I vented my anger. I slammed my coat on the ground, my scarf. I pounded the ground with my fits, repeating how effing stupid I was. I turned around while still on my knees and looked at Chelsea: “Noo…” and proceeded to bawl on like she was the best friend I could’ve ever had. Carving Coldwater Canyon. Birthday party errands and visiting friends in the Hollywood Hills. Stable as a ‘stang even on the 10W towards the beach with the top down and able to pass almost anyone I wanted if in the right gear. Dreams of taking her to Mammoth soon for some spring snowboarding – just me, my board, and Chelsea. She had seen and conquered the city; I wanted to show her the mountains.
Adrenaline, on. “I guess I should call 911,” I said to the neighbors. I pulled out my cell phone. All 8 of them looked at me and laughed – “Oh, that’s been done awhile ago.” I wondered if there was something I could do. They told me to sit down. What a preposterous idea. I continued to pace.
Ambulance. Sirens. Squad cars. A gurney. “Do you wanna go to the hospital?” Ambulance Guy asked. “No,” I said simply and waved them off. They left. A police lady on a power trip who wouldn’t let me get my coat where I had slammed it (yeah – they come in all sexes) – the men waved her off.
I am the one who demanded the sobriety test so that I could pass with flying colors (I did) and flashed my notoriously low-approval auto insurance card so that the police would start treating me with respect (they did). The police beat the twitterers to the “What happened?” question and to both I say exactly the same thing:
Crescent Heights makes a turn right there. I wasn’t paying attention. It could have been that I dozed off – but I will tell you that I remember rowing into third gear just as I was crossing the green at 3rd Street just a block earlier. Next I knew was an explosion…that’s it.
Two policemen said to that: “Oh…you drive a manual.”
That’s “what happened.” No one else was hurt, thank goodness. The neighbors confirmed to me that there is an accident in that exact spot once per month. The parked car I hit was on a turn facing the opposite direction and on the other side of the street – which means I overdid the turn because I was turning with it. If I was dozing off and going straight I would’ve hit a car on the same side of the street.
This, the first accident I’ve caused in driving in Los Angeles for 9 years, could have been exponentially worse and I know this. Yes – other people could have been involved and I know this. Yes – I know a car is replaceable and I am not. So thank you for all your insights. I know you say all of this for yourselves and not just for me so thank your lucky stars and be responsible – everyone – out there. And be fortunate.
As they loaded her onto the tow truck, I said over and over again to Chelsea how sorry I was. I chanted it. And finally, I felt it was finally out of my hands when before, I had simply refused to believe it. So, I uploaded the Twitpic and let the live micro-/blogging and documenting of this chapter begin.
I feel especially blessed that no new injuries have appeared in the couple days following. I cannot believe how unscathed I came out…and neither can anyone else. Nobody. That is a testament to the safety of the New Mini Cooper – and most definitely that someone’s watching out for me. Thank you for all your kind words, all your @estarla replies. They mean the world and it was humbling knowing so many Tweeples cared. 
Thank you! Love you.
I’ve written this post with tears in my eyes. And so it’s time. I’m on my way to the tow yard for a final good-bye.
R.I.P. Chelsea – An e*starLA Flickr Set
Past posts about Chelsea:
Ugh, I Own a BMW (3/12/2008)
Meet Chelsea (2/12/2008)
25 Comments
ohmygosh that is so scary, glad you’re okay! i can’t even imagine that. yikes!
Wow! I wonder what happened. So mysterious that you sorta blacked out. What causes accidents in that curve? Anyway, like I’ve told you, I’m so glad you’re OK. But I’m really sad about Chelsea. Are you really getting another Mini?
Oh crap! So glad you’re alright considering the damage. I hope the post adrenaline shock didn’t tear you up too much. It’s time’s like this that make you wonder that someone up there likes you. Not hard to anyway.
Dude, that is so strange. I’ve heard accidents happen there, but seen more as people are anxious to get thru the light at 6th and Crescent Heights.
Glad you’re okay, sorry about the car. I had to do that once, it sucked – saying goodbye… I got to jack the speakers, though – that was strange.
@katelin – Thanks girl. I guess it was, but a lot of adrenaline kicked in I think.
I was kind of out of sorts with a “what do I do now” -type thing where I was just kind of pacing around. I said to the neighbors that I should probably call the police. They laughed at me and said “Oh, that’s taken care of already.” Just a second later I heard the sirens and waved the ambulance off.
@Caroline on Crack – It’s weird. Some intersections and curves just are like that, I guess. The intersection next to my work (viewable from a window near my cubicle) is like that too! Yes, I’m totally getting another Mini…as close to Chelsea as I can get. She set the bar.
@Edrei – Thank you.
That’s sweet of you to say, and indeed, I feel sooo blessed. Lucky. I have had awhile to realize it could have been that much worse and I am grateful.
@Noelle – I know, I’m kind of tallying what to get from the tow yard when I go visit tomorrow (they moved her today and didn’t tell me…so have to do it tomorrow). I guess I should hire like a car electronics guy, huh?
It’ll buff right out…
But seriously, awwww…no. I read this with tears in my eyes. Actually, it was re-wetting drops. Get more sleep. Rockstars need some rest too.
wow. glad you’re okay and glad to hear there were residual injuries.
did you get your coat back? and your yoga mat that got ejected?
@codemunky – I think I’ve been on an adrenaline kick lately…sleep has been kind of intermittent. Not by choice.
@big league – “Residual” must be a medical term. Because it sounds true, but not exactly sure why. I got my mat that got ejected and have my coat … but still more stuff I wanna claim from the yard.
I’m so glad you’re all ok!
@Cas – Thank you.
Thank goodness you had your seatbelt on! I’m sad I never got a ride in her, she was beautiful. Getting into a car accident, which I’ve only done once and it was also a small blue car, is an incomparable experience of shock, regret and sadness.
And good choice in turning down the ambulance, you would have gotten a huge bill like when I broke my finger on vacation!
That sucks. Good to know you’re okay.
I have been following your blog for about 4 years now. Your stories are always a joy to read. I almost feel like I know you in person. The picture had me super worried and I held my breath as I read this post. I am really glad you were not seriously hurt. I am sorry about Chelsea.
Reading this is almost like reliving my accident in ’01 when I totaled my 2000 honda accord. I know I dozed off but I could clearly remember making the right turn a block before onto the residential street just 4 blocks away from home. I think dozing off keeps your body relaxed when you make impact so it also pretty much kept me unscathed. Although your impact sounds like it was quite a bit scarier since it flipped you over! Thank God for protecting you.
so glad that you are ok, *e! that’s the most important thing.
@Hani – Thanks for such an flattering compliment. Thank you, too, for reading and I really appreciate your concern.
@Darlene – I think that’s so true, the being relaxed bit. Kind of screwed up, actually. And yes, I do thank god for protecting me every day since the crash.
@gw – Thanks, yes I know.
e* i am glad you’re ok. and i am sorry to see chelsea go so soon.
Thanks, Albert.
lolz. no turbo tag… 2nd into 3rd is always the easiest shift too… all the new mini’s have turbos now. bummer?
and hooray for being okay!
Wow. What a story. Clearly there’s a problem with that turn. I’m so glad you made it out safely! I hope your car makes a fast recovery!
@foodwoolf – Aw thank you so much.
And naw, Chelsea went to MINI heaven and I have since adopted a grey version of her I named Anastasia. Thanks for the well wishes! (And yes – I have to admit I never thought that turn was gnarly until I crashed!)
That’s the actual photo!??!! wow! how scary. so glad you are ok
Yes – the actual photo Tara.
Thanks for your well-wishes. I’m glad I’m ok too!!
Awesome pic! Sorry ’bout your ride and glad you’re ok. Scary stuff. I was in bad motorcycle crash last year, ended up under a car. No memory at all of what happened… don’t even know why I was there or where I was going. The wondering about what really happened is unnerving but after a while its sorta comforting. I know, weird.
Wow. Glad you’re ok and thanks for the heads-up.