The nerve of these fucking 80-year-old drivers. They back into your car at a gas station, and then refuse to give you their information!
That’s not how the system works, buddy!
It’s nice when the police can actually do something for you! This is the 2nd accident in a row where a whitehead refused to give me his information. The entitled Baby Boomer generation seems to think that if you are younger than them, that they get to make up their own rules for governance of society. The rate of people giving me information after a car accident is now 100% for those under 50 yrs of age, and 0% for those over 50 yrs of age.
I’ve now had 7 accidents: 4 while driving [1 of which was my fault: age 16], 2 where I was parked and someone hit me, and 1 where someone else was driving a car of mine. So since age 17, I’ve had to deal with 6 accidents in 21 years. None my fault. One every 3.5 yrs on average.
Yea, I’m tired of it. In the mid-1990s, someone backed into my Pontiac 6000STE. I let them go without getting their information. Turned out I had internal damage. My horn stopped working. I failed inspection. I had to pay $100+ to get it repaired. That was when I vowed that I would call the police for ANY accident, even one that seems to have 0 damage. But you know what? I wasn’t going to go through with my vow. It was such a small bump, that I decided I would just trade insurance information with them. I would then file a claim if something came up. These people would have nothing of it!
I wasn’t even in the car. I saw it move and looked over just in time to see their car kinda bouncing away from mine, and seeing both cars bounce in opposite directions (probably only a few inches). I also felt like I saw my front bumper bump back into proper shape, but it happened so quickly. . So I knocked on the window… and then the resistance began. Between then and me calling 911 was probably 3 minutes.
I said something along the lines of: “You just hit my car. I don’t think there’s any damage, but I’d like to get your information in case there turns out to be some damage.” // “But there’s no damage! Look!” // “Yes, I know. I agree there’s probably no damage. But I’ve been in this exact situation before, and was screwed because I didn’t get the information. So I want the information. And the law is: You have to give it to me.”
They were well-dressed, in a nice car, newer than mine.
He told me he wasn’t going to give me his information because there was no damage. I told him that’s not how the law works. He refused again. He started to get into his car. I quickly ran in grabbed a pen (usually have one in my car, wtf!) and wrote his plate number on my hand, in case they dashed off.
I went back out and told him one more time: Give me your information, or I’ll call the police. If you leave, you will be guilty of hit and run. Still unfazed, the man refused once more to give me his information. I went into the gas station and called 911. The poor gas station had long lines and most definitely lost business due to us blocking 2 pumps for 40 minutes.
At one point the guy tried to tell me that a car was coming toward him. So you’re saying you reversed into me on purpose in response to another car? Or are you just lying and making up an excuse? C’mon now. Don’t make yourself look stupider.
The cop came, was moderately easy to deal with, and dealt with me first (probably because I was waving my arms around signaling him), then them.
He made them give the information they were legally required to give. That is, after he found the driver. His wife was in the passenger seat, but the driver left. Maybe he just went to the bathroom, but I don’t know. The guy basically left his wife to deal with the cop. Not cool, dude. I heard the cop lecture him that you can’t leave the scene of a crime. Haha. He got lectured by the cop and I didn’t. Haha.
He also told me he was putting on the report that there was no visible damage. Fair enough! I agree with that! I mentioned the car-horn scenario and he made me check my car horn. It worked. Good for him for making me do that, erasing all doubt.
I almost couldn’t find my proof-of-insurance, and was going to be kicking myself if I got another ticket after my recent $150 and $500 redlight/parking tickets (parked where parking attendant told me to park: got $500 ticket: Baltimore court date forthcoming). Fortunately I found it. That would have sucked.
Watching him deal with the old people was funny. They resisted and resisted. He kept explaining and explaining. It’s not a ticket, it’s just an exchange of information. The elderly man — born in 1930, age 82 — wrote very, very poorly. He did not make an effort to write legibly. The cop made him (both of us actually) get out our ID/insurance to double-check that things were filled out properly.[This is good. In the 1990s a tractor trailer hit me, gave false information to the police, and because they didn't double-check it, the driver never had to pay for his infraction. I managed to get the real information after the cop left, and the state of Alabama wouldn't release his identity to the state of Virginia. So why the fuck do we let Alabama still drive its trucks through our state? Republicans? We should demand a state comply with all information requests as a condition of allowing their commercial traffic through our state!]
Anyway, the guy wrote his license plate down so poorly that the cop had to over-write it, but he wrote it wrong, changing a 9 into a 0. GOOD THING I WROTE THE LICENSE PLATE NUMBER ON MY HAND EARLIER, or I’d have an inaccurate report. At least they double check now when they didn’t in the 90′s, but this doesn’t mean there’s any less burden to double-check the information yourself. Remember that.
Even then, they tried to leave fields blank! The officer had to tell them repeatedly that they had to put their phone number on it. They resisted, citing that I would start harassing them. Old people and their fucking fear of technology. My grandparents (RIP) would not get on the internet because they believed if you posted one thing one person didn’t like, they could make your life miserable. I’d be dead by now if there was any truth to that. (Indeed, the only death threats I received via persona phone call in response to my online activities were back in the BBS days before the internet.)
So now I have the guy’s full information (born in 1930!), insurance company, policy #, birthday, address. More info than I would have gotten if he’d just cooperated with my initial, civil request.
So you know what? I called his insurance company and reported it. If he had just given me his information, I wouldn’t have done this. But because he made us all wait there 30-40 minutes to deal with this, I am now driven by SPITE.
USAA too. So he’s probably a veteran who feels that because he served in the military, he somehow has greater rights than the rest of us. That might explain his entitled attitude. I’m admittedly prejudiced against ex-military due to multiple ex-military murderers fucking up my social life with their senseless violence, including murdering Dirk and attacking my friends.
So yeah, I called USAA and filed a claim. They have a process for my situation: I am now scheduled for a 15 minute inspection at a local body shop, to make sure there’s no “internal damage” (insurance term). I am going to pick up taco bell first, because car inspections while eating tacos are better than car inspections without tacos. Basically: (x + taco) > x.
I don’t think they’ll find anything. But now there’s a blip on his insurance record. I did mention that to them. “Now that you’ve made me call the police, there will be a report, your insurance company will know about it, and your insurance will go up.” I wanted to let Mr.Oldboy know that he was stabbing himself in the foot.
This all segues into a recent conversation I had with my dad about old drivers. He had a misconception that old drivers were better drivers, but then I brought a bunch of government statistics in. Elderly drivers have less fatalities because they drive fewer miles. Per-mile, when you get up to the age of 80, you’re actually worse than a teenager. The difference being that a lot of teenager accidents are when they are purposely driving shittily and taking risks, while with the old people, they should know better and have a lifetime of experience, are not risktaking, and STILL crash at the same rate. That’s far worse in my book.
If this guy’s handwriting is any indication, he should not be eligible to pass the vision test to get his license.
And yes, I’ve bumped people that hard, and had them not report me. And I was thankful. Some would say this makes me a hypocrite. But I disagree. I’m me. I have my own set of experiences and rules that are different from others. It has been demonstrated to me that it is a mistake not to exchange information. That is a lesson I took to heart. That is not everybody’s lesson. If someone wants to let me off in a situation that I wouldn’t — let them. They are free to not assert their rights as much as I do. We all live our lives different ways.
That one accident that was really my fault, at age 16? The guy was a reverend driving his purple limo. I was a 16 year old kid with ripped jeans driving my parents’ shitty station wagon. He didn’t report the damage. Does this mean I owe someone else an equal let-off? Not to me, it doesn’t. But I did give someone the let-off in the 1990s, and it came back to bite me. At this point, nobody’s ever getting let-off again. Ever. You ding my car, I get your information. I may not call, BUT I GET YOUR INFORMATION. And if you don’t like it, I’m calling the police. And it doesn’t matter if you are elderly, black, white, young, old, in a suit, in ripped jeans — you’re going to be treated equally by me. Information. Police. 100% of the time.