Tuesday, October 1, 2013

The Dream of the Reck

I was talking on the phone with either my brother or my dad while I was driving through Three Rivers Michigan in my Jeep full of boxes. As I approached a stop light, the boxes shifted into my lap and I couldn't push the brake pedal. I swerved to the left and into the ditch to avoid hitting the other people. 

(the whole time my dad/brother was talking to me) All I could say was "Oh God, Oh God help me." I didn't tell my dad/brother what was happening because they didn't stop talking long enough for me to say it. The whole time this happened, he was talking. 
My Jeep flipped onto the driver side and began to slide across a parking lot toward a bank. It was Sunday so the bank was closed, but my jeep slid up the steps and through the glass doors, then out the opposite side (another set of glass doors) where it skidded across the parking lot until finally coming to rest in a parking space facing the bank. I must have passed out, because I remember coming to and being stuck in the Jeep. I somehow wriggled my way out through the windshield and fell on the ground. Laying there on the ground, I found my iPhone clutched in my hand. I held down the home button and told Siri to give me the number for the Three Rivers Police department in a slurred voice, to which it replied, "I'm sorry I'm unable to do that for you at this time. Please try again later." I held the button again, silently cursing the thing and asked for the number for the police department, it brought it up and asked me if I wanted to call it. I said yes, and it replied in a sing-song clown voice, "Well, okay! But if you do that, it will end our super fun time together!" The phone rang and the chief of police answered. I said slowly and deliberately, "There's been an accident, I slid off the road and through this bank. I know it's Sunday and no one's working, but I figured it would have triggered an alarm or something and someone would have come to see what was going on." She answered nonchalantly that she'd see if she could get someone to come out there soon and check on me and the bank.
 
As we were talking I was limping back up to the bank door that I'd smashed through to see if anyone was inside. I turned back to my Jeep to find the parking lot filling with cars of families who were moving into the hotel next door. No one seemed to notice me limping and bleeding across the parking lot heading back to my Jeep. They just went on with their lives, pretending I wasn't even there.