An Open Letter to the NYC Cab Driver Who Hit Me
[The following is based on a true story.]
Dear New York City Cab Driver Who Hit Me The Other Day,
Hey Cabbie, it's me, Daniel. The guy you hit with your car. Hello! I just wanted to check in, see how you were doing and introduce myself, since you didn't really stick around to chat after you hit me with your car (more on that later!). Things are OK with me. I'm (mostly) enjoying my time on the East Coast. I'm spending time with my family, seeing old friends, checking out my old college stomping grounds, doing some Christmas shopping, etc. Just generally having a good time.
If I had to do one part of this trip over again, I guess I'd say that I'd prefer not to be hit by you. And-
... Wait ...
It just occurred to me that you might not know what I'm talking about, Random NYC Cab Driver. Surely you must though. You must remember the guy you hit last Tuesday, unless you hit a bunch of guys last Tuesday (totally possible). Well, just so you're caught up on my situation, let me refresh your memory with ...
Getting Hit By a Car: A Dramatization
I begin to cross Broadway on West 3rd Street. About five feet from the curb, I turn to my right to see a yellow, taxi minivan heading straight for me. The driver doesn't see that the light's red (or maybe he does and he just hates me), so even though I'm supposed to cross, it's clear that he has no intention of letting me do that without a fight.
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"So I says 'Don't tell ME; I already GOT a license. A license to thrill!' Anyway, cab-driving is super easy."
People talk about adrenaline a lot and how, in dire situations, it kicks in in unexpected ways and helps you accomplish goals you normally couldn't. You always hear those stories about the old woman who lifted up a car because there was a baby trapped underneath it, or how a cop will keep moving after getting shot because he's in Die Hard. So you already know that adrenaline does fun and amazing things in the pursuit of saving the body when it really needs saving. What they don't tell you is how cool it is. In my case, when adrenaline kicked in, all that happened was everything around me became slower, and I became much, much calmer. I didn't freeze or panic, I just saw the situation with clarity, where I only had to deal with a few, important facts. They were:
1) That car is moving far too quickly to stop before it reaches you;
2) There is not enough time to dive back to the curb, out of harm's way;
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Jaws Theme. Jaws Theme. JawsTheme JawsTheme JawsTheme JawsTheme JawsTheme JawsTheme.
Those were the only things that mattered at the time, so those were the only things I saw with total clarity, and the only things I focused on, just like an action movie badass. And this is me, we're talking about. I am not a cool guy. I don't own a leather jacket; I don't know how to wink; I never know what to do with my hands at parties; and I hyperventilate if I have to pee standing next to someone. I'm not very cool indeed. But when a car was coming right for me, and it was clear that I had to do something, my brain -- for maybe the first time in my life -- ignored all of the things it usually obsesses over (hand placement, if everyone's having a good time, the volume of my voice, how sweaty I am, etc.). There wasn't a whole lot of time between me seeing your car and your car hitting me (on account of how fast you were driving it at me without stopping), but enough for my brain to calm me down and tell my body what we needed to do. I couldn't dive to either side and, on my best day, am not strong enough to punch a moving car out of the way. My body and I had one choice.
We jump. Straight up in the air. Just like Spider-Man.
Meeeeee!
And that's what we did. Last-minute instincts (or "spider-sense"), assured me that, if I'd stood still, I would have been pulled right under the car. I don't want to beat a dead horse or put too fine a point on this, but if not for my spider-sense and spider-like agility, I probably would have been killed (and, worse yet, I'd have missed my deadline and wouldn't have had a column this week). So I jumped straight up, lifted my legs and turned my head away (a technique I would later learn was the safest way to get hit by a car). I cleared the hood, and slammed into the windshield, crushing my right hand in between my body and the windshield. I'd extended my hand in a futile attempt to save myself (or shoot some web, maybe?). Adrenaline was still slowing everything down for me, but momentum was already doing its job so well that there was no real action I could take. All I could do was slowly evaluate the situation and really process everything that was happening. Oh, wow, I'm getting hit by a car! I can't believe I'm getting hit by a car! was my only thought. In hind site I probably could have made better use of my slowed down Matrix time.
The cab stopped short after the impact, launching me forward, high into the air and then onto the street. I laid on my back for a full three seconds.
When I tell my grandchildren this story, I like to think that I'll lie about this next part. I like to think that, when they ask what I said as I rolled around on the pavement after being hit, I'll come up with some clever, badass line. Or, if not clever and badass, then, worst case scenario, classy. I hope that I don't tell them the truth, because, honestly, the first thing I said immediately after I got hit by a car, was ...
"Ooohhhohohoho, fuuuck me."
And "said" is generous. I shouted that business.
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And "I hope your windshield's OK you piece of shiiiiiit!"
I immediately stood up because, once the crisis-management part of my brain had done its job, the rest of my brain kicked in, so I was instantly embarrassed. I don't know why, objectively. That's just how my brain works. I get hit by a car and suddenly I'm saying, "Oh, my God, ha ha, so sorry everybody, please, continue about your business, I'll be fine, GOD, what a GOOFBALL I am. DOY! Ha ha, really sorry to bother anyone." So I got up, and walked around to the driver of the car that hit me. The driver rolled down his window and said nothing. To be specific, he in fact glared at me, like I'm the asshole. And I apologized (because I sort of am).
"Sorry," I said. "I'm ... pretty sure I'm OK, though."
"Are you sure," he asked. Remind him not to trust your judgment, I said to myself, because you were just hit by a car, like, seconds ago.
"I think so? But, again, I just got hit by you, so maybe ... maybe hang out. Like, a minute? Please hang out here a minute."
END OF DRAMATIZATION
Would be funny if someone walked around the corner, saw Dan laying on the floor (no doubt, with messed up clothes) out of breath, surrounded by people shouting "fuck me!". :L
ReplySometimes random people are jerks to me. I often get really mad at them. I compose long, hostile rants in my head and imagine the jerk forced to listen, unable to refute my logic. The crowd cheers, because they're reasonable people who know I'm right.
ReplyNow me, all I can do is imagine that feeling. But DOB can ACTUALLY DO IT. He has the rant, he has the readership, and if you hit him with your car, the fact that you're a jerk will not stay just between the two of you. Thousands of people will hear about it, and they will agree.
I want to be DOB when I grow up.
I would've called the cops. That guy should not be on the streets. Not only did he run a red light, he hit someone and left the scene. That's a one way trip to not-fun prison, and all the cops have to do is find him, which might admittedly be difficult, since our writer inexplicably did not happen to memorize the plate number while he was staggering around in shock.
ReplyI got bumped by a cab driver two days ago on my way to work. Had zero reaction but a screamed 'Jesus mother f*****g christ!' before I realized the taxi had zipped off. Didn't even slow down. After working a full day I went to a bar, and said that I had been hit by a cab. Utterly nonplussed, was the general response. As a person who lives in NY, I must concur, this is a very annoyingly daily occurrence. The terrible thing about a job where they make no money unless they get a shitton of rides.
ReplyMy friend is on the design and testing team for the next generation of mini-van NYC cabs and I will let him know to either build them more soul- (and spine-) crushingly stronger or perhaps with fluffy pillows for windows. But come on, you've got one of the coolest stories to tell now. You were hit by a car and got right up and YOU glared at the cabby before DISMISSING him. Cops? A hospital? You're motherfuckin' D O B you don't need that sissy shit. Whisky. Straight. That's all you need.
ReplyActually the story says the CABBIE glared at the WRITER, and then the writer apologized to the cabbie before the cabbie was GONE IN 60 SECONDS.
its a shame a bystander didnt get the cab number... leaving the scene? s**t, dude... nypt would have put him on a george foreman grill for that... why is it that the worst drivers become cab drivers? because they do everything else even worse...
Replytake care, dude.... hope to see you in the workshop soon.
Dan, I am really, really, really glad you're still alive and (mostly) OK.
ReplyNow would be the time for all the witnesses to rally together for some vigilante justice-issuing and leave the cabby hogtied on your doorstep.
I will wish for this every night before I sleep until it happens.
Best wishes.
Well, I have been meaning to find a use for these batarangs that I just have lying around...
I know that corner. Just down the street from Best Buy. Anyway... Sorry you had to go through that. However, it was almost worth it as I noticed you did aa ultra rare TRIPLE digression in your "original letter" of ")]}" What would one more stray thought have caused in that sentence? A rip in the grammer/space continuuuum?
ReplySorry about the lame observation. I lost all my confidence to write funny after reading DrNemmo's comment below me. Too funny...
I lost mine (confidence to write funny for cracked)after spending so long researching how the other articles here were put together and critiqued that I felt like I was out of my depth and my articles (I never submitted any) were not as clever/funny/original etc and wouldn't stand up to the critiques. You should probably give it a go though. Many of the comments here are actually so funny, witty or insightful that I think a lot of them should probably try writing. I'm 6 months pregnant so I'm suffering from baby-brain. I didn't believe it existed till I forgot my own address on the phone recently and then my 4 year old son started correcting my grammar.
Check after a couple of months to see if you have developed some kind of cab-related superpowers. Think about it for a few minutes: what if the cab was radioactive? Awesome.
ReplyL. M. F. A. O.
ReplyThat. Sucks so much. Man I am so sorry, no one should have to go through that. Rest up, the sooner that hand heals the sooner you can start using it to punch cabbies in the face. Or, you know, file a lawsuit. Or something.
ReplyDear DOB: I am really happy that you are alive and relatively well off for having been struck by a speeding cab. Your Spider-Man jump seemed EXTREMELY impressive (I'd bet anyone who actually saw would say the same)! But I do want to apologize in laughing so goddamn hard at your personal tragedy... admittedly, I understand that being the point of this article, but f**k, it doesn't make me feel less prickish. (I should probably go apologize to Brockway for showing the city of Tallahassee the misery of meth-head robbery too, huh?)
ReplyAnyways, points remaining: glad you're okay, good job on your Jump check, sorry that your tragedy is HILARIOUS, and looking forward to next week!
Dear DOB: I am really happy that you are alive and relatively well off for having been struck by a speeding cab. Your Spider-Man jump seemed EXTREMELY impressive (I'd bet anyone who actually saw would say the same
ReplyBoth my husband and I have gotten hit by cars as pedestrians, and amazingly enough, neither of us were injured, aside from some wicked bruises. I even went and took an exam 10 minutes after the incident. The adrenaline high is amazing, but I would NOT want to repeat it ever again. Glad to hear you're (mostly) okay.
ReplyI hope you can contact the cab company and find out which guy it was or something like that. There's gotta be some justice in the world for something like that.
ReplyThere HAS to be some way because you cant just roll on back to work with a broken windshield as if everything is normal. That should be easy to find out (unless its been to long to file a police investagating[but then again it was technically a "hit and run" but he waited soo{IM SO CONFUSED!}]) Dont worry to much on it God will punish thee in thine own right. Glad your still with us :)
wow man that is quite unexpected but then again when do you expect to be hit by a car (unless your that stuntman from the linked video I guess)? Hope your hand gets better soon.
Replyreally don't want to sound like a dick becuase getting car'd is serious s**t, but next time something hits you get a plate number asap. hope you heal normally.
Reply Hide All See All 4 RepliesI'm sure that's sound advice for people who are just recovering from the shock of being struck by a 1000+ kg machine. Maybe if he also wears a helmet whenever he walks around in NYC, he might even remember that particular point.
Maybe somebody who saw the incident could have used their brains to get the plate number down FOR him? Unless the cab hit EVERYBODY in the area, somebody surely should have thought of it.
He will heal normally - spider-man doesn't have healing powers.
Except maybe the people in the area were more worried about making sure DOB was okay than getting the cab's info.
"Oh, wow, I'm getting hit by a car! I can't believe I'm getting hit by a car! was my only thought."
ReplyI fell off my dirt bike at high speed five months ago, most significantly snapping my collar bone in two. The bullet time allowed me to choose which way I was going to handle the obstacle (I'd say I chose the lesser of four evils). Once I was knocked off though it was all 'oh wow this is a big one. I can't believe I'm still sliding so fast, it just keeps going.'
Last night I worked at a homeless shelter and the ladies were telling me one of the women who usually stay got hit by a car that morning and was offered $5 by the person driving the car. She took the offer. I think you got ripped off, DOB.
ReplyRest easy buddy, you've read Spider-Man comics. You know how this goes. Guy does something terrible to Spider-Man's loved ones (and of all people, you've GOT to count as one of his loved ones), he becomes furious, then he finds and brutalizes the culprit. The taxi driver probably got kicked out of a window the next day!
ReplyWith great power comes the responsibility of taking vengeance on those who wrong DOB.