That Time I Survived Being Hit By a Car
I came across this video of a stunt woman explaining the proper way, God forbid, you should be hit by a car. Ideally, the best way too be hit by a car, is to not be hit by a car at all! But to the not so lucky few, myself included; it's a good idea to be fully prepared. For those of us who have actually been in a situation where a vehicle is barreling down the street coming straight at you full speed & the only thing you have to save your life is pure instinct and quick reflexes; I can attest to the fact that everything she's saying is, at least for me, 100% correct.
The Evil One
I was dating this guy who made me miserable. He was mean. He was selfish. He was narcissistic. He was abusive. He was just awful. Part of me lived in constant fear of him, part of me wanted to see him die a slow and agonizing death. I wasn't gonna do it though. You see, murder and burning in Hell for eternity is not really my thing, but I promise you I would have taken "celebrating the deceased" to a whole nother level. But, I digress....
Anyway, the only partially decent thing I can say about this guy is that he saved me from broken bones, severe head trauma and possibly even death the night we were both simultaneously hit by a car. I'll leave out the fact that the entire situation was his fault to begin with and just try to focus on what happened.
One of the things he used to pride himself on was the fact that he was a BMX Trickster. It fact, he was really good at it. He used to wear his "trick abilities" (so poignant in so many ways) like a badge of honor. The multiple flipping, the 360 spinning, the riding full speed then coming to a complete stop on one tire & balancing for long periods of time; he could do it all. It was his arrogant egotistical gift that saved my life.
The Day We Got Hit
Late one night, we were riding home from the hospital in Flatbush, Brooklyn. The reason for the hospital trip is not important, just know that I felt horrible and it too, was all his fault. The mentioning of the area is important because anybody from NYC, particularly Brooklyn knows that Flatbush drivers are craaaaaazzzzzy!!!!! NO LIE. Especially the Dollar Van and Livery Cab drivers.
Anyway, whenever he rode his bike when we were together, he would make me sit on the handle bars. I felt he would deliberately pedal faster just to have me on edge. I was always terrified, but he'd always say that I walked too slow and that he was a pro so I had nothing to worry about. Normally I'd protest more (to no avail of course), but on this particular night I felt so miserable, I just didn't care and didn't wanna fight with him anymore.
It was late, it was cold and was it dark. I was propped atop these way too small for the size of my butt handle bars; holding on for dear life as he sped down the sidewalk of a normally very busy street. He pedaled blindly with his head buried in the center my back to protect his face from the cold wind. I had to forcefully lean back on his head just so he wouldn't propel me forward off the bike.
Barreling down the street towards the intersection we were about to cross at the exact same time was a notorious Brooklyn Livery Cab. The driver was on the phone, not paying attention and speeding ridiculously towards us. It were as though everything began to move in a Matrix-like slow motion. I tried to warn him repeatedly as we neared the intersection, but he, as usual, paid no attention to anything I was saying.
Bracing For Impact
Once we were directly in the path of the oncoming car, it was too late to try and jump off the bike. It was too late to try & warn him, and at this point, all I could do is gasp and let out this blood-curdling scream because I just knew I was gonna die. At that exact same moment, I could feel his head lift up off of my back and turn towards the direction of the oncoming car. As I looked down at the fender of the cab inches from impacting the bike; I saw my life flash before my eyes. Suddenly, I felt what I could only describe as a very forceful jerk, a really high lift into the air and an incredibly steep lean. It was almost poetic.
The next thing I know, I was rolling on top of the hood of the car into the windshield and when the cab came to a screeching halt, I rolled off and landed sharply on my butt. I just lied there stunned, staring into space and afraid to move. I couldn't believe I wasn't dead. When I looked up, there stood my ex perched triumphantly on the roof of the livery cab still holding tightly onto his bike. All he needed was a red cape blowing in the wind and an American flag, & this selfish b*stard would of looked like Super Man.
I looked up at him in disbelief and he looked down at me in disgust silently letting me know that getting hit by a car was my fault. Just when he was about to verbally berate me, people starting darting out of their homes in every direction running towards the intersection to see what happened. Of course at this point, my ex had to at least pretend that he gave a damn about my condition. As the people came closer, they were in awe of him, worried about me and about to give the cab driver a serious Flatbush-beat-down. It was the worst night, in a long line of worst night's of my life during that relationship.
I'll end the story here and say that we walked away from that accident.
Check out the above video to see how we were able to survive.