Driving While Intoxicated (DWI) it

¶ … Driving While Intoxicated (DWI)

It was one of the pregnant silences that are just too devoid of sound. Sitting at the stoplight near midnight waiting for the light to change, I noticed a bright, blaring set of headlights behind me, closing to 100 feet, then 50 feet, and crash! The two pair of headlights was a brown Mercedes traveling at sixty miles per hour, smashing my left bumper as I realized at thirty feet this careening car was not going to stop I made a fast turn to the left. As my car and the Mercedes did a chaotic, deadly dance through the intersection, I could see oncoming traffic one second and then not, see a traffic signal pole coming then going, and finally coming to rest in the middle of the intersection, my truck rocking like there was a tornado inside. The Mercedes as up over the curb with gas, water and oil spewing out and the smell of brunt tires, antifreeze, gasoline and gin were everywhere.

My truck wasn't drivable but the door worked. I got out and could hear the glass pop off my clothes and make weird sounds like Rick Krispies popping in a cereal bowl, and when I got to the Mercedes I could see these two guys, drenched in gin, beer, and glass. They were laughing. From ten feet away you could smell the alcohol. When I asked them if they were alright, they gave some quick answer and tried to get the car to move. It wouldn't. I asked them for their insurance and they rattled off some expletives and told me to go to hell and asked if I knew who their father was. However he was, he was going to be very angry when he saw that brown Mercedes, it was totaled.

By now cars had stopped, 911 had been called, and people were gathering. The drunk driver got out and started to walk away calling friends and laughing. I told him he could have killed me, himself and his friend. He told me to shut up. I wanted to punch him and tackle him, but instead I kept bugging him for his insurance and still he produced nothing.

The police arrived and made us sit down first and get examined by the paramedics. My leg was bleeding and sore but not bad; the drunks were limping and a little bloody from the glass but they were unfazed about what happened. I was incredulous. The police pulled out the breathalyzer but they refused to use it. Next the police asked to see license and insurance, and the drunk driver could only produce an insurance card. This guys' license had been revoked for drunk driving, and the police found this out by running his name and the plate through the systems in their patrol car. He was put in the back of the squad car with handcuffs on, as was his friend. I'd nearly been killed by a repeat drunk driver and I was mad enough to climb into that squad car and make sure the driver got a lesson he wouldn't soon forget.

I was taken by ambulance to a local hospital for x-rays, my truck was totaled, and to this day the drunk driver or his parents have never reached out and said "sorry our son nearly killed you..." And "are you alright?" Instead there are the disclaimer letters from some high priced attorney outfit; the drunk driver's Dad is a judge. Nice; and the rules of justice bend for the killer he keeps in his house.