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WT’s Big car accident.

I’ve unexpectedly had to come down to the Coast for a couple of days, but being a good little NaNoMoFo, I can’t miss a post. Here’s one I prepared earlier. This also means I won’t be commenting until I get back to a broadband connection.

Another in my series of "Close Shaves" stories

Has anyone ever owned an old VW beetle? This may apply to the newer ones too, but having never owned one newer than a 1968 model I wouldn’t know. Anyway this is a story about VW heating systems, a young dude’s refusal to wear shoes in winter, and paying attention while driving.

It was about six months after I had been kicked out of home, and things had been patched up with mum and dad, but I was still living on my own, and was not ready to come home. It was mum and dad’s birthday (yes, you read that right, same day) and I was at their place for a BBQ. Dad brought out a flagon of teacher (for those unfamiliar with the term, a flagon is half gallon bottle of wine and a teacher is a cheap wine that makes you very sick then next day – ‘"that’ll teach yer not to drink that crap again‘). We polished it off drank the entire flagon over the course of the arvo, as well as and some whiskey that dad had.

Since I was pissed as a newt, mum suggested I stay the night. The next morning I left for work, I should mention that mum and dad’s birthday, when they used to have them (which is pretty rare now on account of them being dead and all) was on the 1st of July, that’s the middle of winter here, and it was brass monkey weather. Here’s where the VW’s heater comes in; they had a little air vent just above the floor on each side of the car which delivered hot air from the engine, temperature control was by a lever that let you open or close the vent a little. This meant that while you drove (if you were wearing thongs, or flip flops for the yanks, as I was), one foot got third degree burns and the other got frostbite. So what I used to do was cross my feet periodically to even things out a bit.

And so it was, that as I was hurtling along in the fast lane of the Hume Highway heading east between Bass Hill and Yagoona at 5:30am one winter’s morning with my feet crossed, that I saw one of the newly released Norton Commandos going the other way. While I was soaking in all of its beauty, I failed to notice the cars in front slow down and then stop because a truck was turning off the highway. It may or, may not have been too late to stop by the item I brought my attention back to driving, but it was moot, because when I tried to hit the brakes I found that foot that was supposed to be for braking, was on the floor next to the heater and as a result, it got tangled up with my clutch foot, which was on the accelerator (you’d only do this if you were young and stupid). So without even slowing down from 40 miles an hour, I ran straight into the back of a ute, which in turn was pushed into the back of the truck that was turning off the road.

You’d think that this would be frowned upon by the police, but when he saw that there were no skid marks at all, he determined that the brakes must have failed, and who am I to argue with a cop. As a result, I didn’t even get fined let alone lose my license! (despite being on my ‘P plates’ at the time). Oh, and I wasn’t injured at all!

Unfortunately I had to pay for the damage I caused to the vehicles in front of me, and that put me in a hole for a while, plus my own car was totalled.

Stay tuned for more close shaves…

Yo,MoFo post #17