Dementia figured in an accident last October 1. (Yes, the same day I was at the office while the rest of the country is on a one-day vacation.) Yup! My 15 years of no-accident record is now officially broken. It was a most disconcerting experience.
I was driving along Sapphire St in Ortigas enter. My passenger and I were talking about the chick I slept with Monday night (nope not that chick. I meant literally a chick. But let’s save that for another entry maybe, shall we?), when she shrieked my name and then, THUD! I hit my brakes, but since sudden stops are dangerous, I kind of slowed down to a stop.
I stepped out of Brad, my car. The other guy stepped out too and immediately told me it was my fault. I countered that it actually was his because he’s the one who hit me, and he hit me near the rear (I know that sounds kinda lewd but that isn’t what I mean. This is a straightforward entry, hear.)
I tried to be calm the whole time. But it’s my first time and my brain went almost blank. I just retained enough wits to get his name and plate number.
Since he moved his car (later, my brothers-in-law told me I shouldn’t have let him done so, but I can’t stand obstructing traffic.), we can’t bring in the police on the scene. The Ortigas Center traffic police offered to bring us to the police station within the MMDA Impounding Area. We both went. (He took both our driver’s license for security. Personally, I applaud him for doing so. Thanks, Mr. Renato Javier of the Ortigas Center Association, Inc. Security!)
I was driving along Sapphire St in Ortigas enter. My passenger and I were talking about the chick I slept with Monday night (nope not that chick. I meant literally a chick. But let’s save that for another entry maybe, shall we?), when she shrieked my name and then, THUD! I hit my brakes, but since sudden stops are dangerous, I kind of slowed down to a stop.
I stepped out of Brad, my car. The other guy stepped out too and immediately told me it was my fault. I countered that it actually was his because he’s the one who hit me, and he hit me near the rear (I know that sounds kinda lewd but that isn’t what I mean. This is a straightforward entry, hear.)
I tried to be calm the whole time. But it’s my first time and my brain went almost blank. I just retained enough wits to get his name and plate number.
Since he moved his car (later, my brothers-in-law told me I shouldn’t have let him done so, but I can’t stand obstructing traffic.), we can’t bring in the police on the scene. The Ortigas Center traffic police offered to bring us to the police station within the MMDA Impounding Area. We both went. (He took both our driver’s license for security. Personally, I applaud him for doing so. Thanks, Mr. Renato Javier of the Ortigas Center Association, Inc. Security!)
The damage on Brad
On the way there, my sister, Happy (notice the disparity in our names), was talking me through the process—get his name, get his contact info, don’t sign anything you’re not comfortable with, etc. I could barely retain her instructions. I keep talking to myself aloud to keep me focused on the task at hand, to remind me of the things I needed to do, to keep the blankness at bay.
When we got to the sorry excuse of a station, not that it’s the policemen’s fault, mind, (calling the PNP, your policemen on this side of the world are in such dire straits I’ve seen better looking shanties.), the policeman, SPO1 Orencio Frando, took our statements by giving us both a sheet of paper to fill. The form has the Miranda rights, which we had to read and sign. Then it asked for the necessary info. Afterwards, we were both asked to pay Php200 for the photos of the car and were advised that the statements will be ready for pick up at 2pm on Friday, October 3. And that was that.
On the way there, my sister, Happy (notice the disparity in our names), was talking me through the process—get his name, get his contact info, don’t sign anything you’re not comfortable with, etc. I could barely retain her instructions. I keep talking to myself aloud to keep me focused on the task at hand, to remind me of the things I needed to do, to keep the blankness at bay.
When we got to the sorry excuse of a station, not that it’s the policemen’s fault, mind, (calling the PNP, your policemen on this side of the world are in such dire straits I’ve seen better looking shanties.), the policeman, SPO1 Orencio Frando, took our statements by giving us both a sheet of paper to fill. The form has the Miranda rights, which we had to read and sign. Then it asked for the necessary info. Afterwards, we were both asked to pay Php200 for the photos of the car and were advised that the statements will be ready for pick up at 2pm on Friday, October 3. And that was that.
The police station
Two things I learned about myself from this incident is that when panic hits me first before rationality, I can become useless. My insecurities are showing. I doubt myself, I doubt the situation. I can’t stop second guessing myself, trying to determine if I did anything to jeopardize myself. I recalled points where I could have done something else and miss the accident altogether.
I know in my heart I didn’t cause the accident. But I was afraid that I might have said something, missed to mention something, drew the detail incompletely. It didn’t help that Happy was being the voice of doom, telling me the guy might already be bribing the police, that it might actually become my fault, that he might run from his obligations. Paranoia, I know. Why do you think my name’s Dementia?
I need ice cream! I need chocolate!
The second thing I discovered is that despite my general cynism, I also do trust people still. I hope this won’t be broken by the police and anyone else involved in it. I’d hate to lose that trust completely.
Friday came. I was at the police outpost by 1pm. Got the police report and the pictures. Next stop, insurance and car repair. So until my car is fixed, Dementia is a commuter. Watch out cad drivers, Dementia is coming your way. Be careful with those meters.
Two things I learned about myself from this incident is that when panic hits me first before rationality, I can become useless. My insecurities are showing. I doubt myself, I doubt the situation. I can’t stop second guessing myself, trying to determine if I did anything to jeopardize myself. I recalled points where I could have done something else and miss the accident altogether.
I know in my heart I didn’t cause the accident. But I was afraid that I might have said something, missed to mention something, drew the detail incompletely. It didn’t help that Happy was being the voice of doom, telling me the guy might already be bribing the police, that it might actually become my fault, that he might run from his obligations. Paranoia, I know. Why do you think my name’s Dementia?
I need ice cream! I need chocolate!
The second thing I discovered is that despite my general cynism, I also do trust people still. I hope this won’t be broken by the police and anyone else involved in it. I’d hate to lose that trust completely.
Friday came. I was at the police outpost by 1pm. Got the police report and the pictures. Next stop, insurance and car repair. So until my car is fixed, Dementia is a commuter. Watch out cad drivers, Dementia is coming your way. Be careful with those meters.
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