Thank You for Supporting Me · 7:12pm Nov 21st, 2021
I awoke with a tight, burning chest, and lungs that had forgotten to inflate. I looked around to see not the inside of the car—but the tight closest of a room. I had limped into the motel and paid 70$ to spend five hours inside of it. Three hours were spent sleeping. At the back, the shower squeaked in its constant leakage of water.
I'd gotten into an accident the night before.
When I was crossing the border into the States, my car flared with several warnings on the screen, deactivating all of its 'smart' technology. I pulled over after that and called my brother-in-law who did mechanical work. He said that, when the gas is filled high, sometimes, it will trigger a check engine light.
"Drive it for a bit; it'll go away."
I drove and so it did. I didn't think much about it after that. I went to Buffalo first to see a friend and, after that, knocked off a quick nap in the car. Then I took off on my road trip to see Shakes. I didn't mention this in the first blog. I wanted to make sure he'd be comfortable with that, first. On the interstate there, I was driving in the right lane, far behind a truck, in a daze.
We'd been clear for most of the way here. I didn't see it, but a truck had come upon our left, blasting past us. My car usually beeps and nudges you to the right if you're leaving your lane. I'm not sure if that had been deactivated at the border due to the warnings—or if I was still in my lane. But as the truck passed, I was pulled underneath it—right into its bottom bar.
I tore the car right.
I don't know if it would have been better to break or what. But I unhinged myself from the bar and slowed the car to the shoulder.
From there, the car would turn one, but the engine wouldn't start. I called my insurance to find that I had called beyond their hours. I called Hoda plus services. Standing in the cold as it snowed, I listened for over fives minutes in an introduction in English, then another in french, before it went on to tell me that there were no available operators.
I'm serious. Call the Honda Plus program. Before you can do anything, you have to listen to both of these long introductions in two languages. Eventually, a state trooper came by, and I told him what happened. No wreckage. No trucks pulled off ahead. No witness. No nothing.
I'd been driving a motorcycle for three years. No records or anything. Pulled over only once back home because I hadn't known my backlight bulb had gone out. It was a friendly interaction and the cop and I spoke for an hour or so about things. The one State Trooper I had was nice; the other, not so much.
"Where are you from?"
"Canada."
"I know that already. Where in Canada?"
"Sorry. Ontario."
I'd been so nice and apologetic that they wondered if I had hit my head. The one State Trooper drank a can of Monster Energy while the other tested to see if I was drunk. With how much I glanced at the Monster, I'm surprised they didn't book me then and there. But I passed the test, they called someone to tow my truck.
The driver was relaxed and cool and drove me back to the auto shop. He told me that, from both my insurance, and Honda, that they don't cover pickups from the Interstate for whatever reasons. So I paid 170$ USD (I'm Canadian, so every dollar costs an extra 30 cents for me) and wondered what I could do. Buddy called the Janitor of the building to drive me to the one motel in the town.
The older man was nice and drove me a few minutes to the place. Problem was, only money I had was 20$, so I gave him that. I limped into the Motel and ordered a room. Another 70$ for five hours.
I had to download an app for Insurance to do the claim. Then, the next day, I called again, talking not to an agent—but something close to it, working from home. Because the accident happened on Friday, the agent requires a day to look into the matter. But they're closed on weekends—this is TD Insurance—and won't hear anything until Monday.
But since I'm in the USA, they need a different agent to look at it, which could take a few days. Then, after that, they might need to send someone down to look at the car—which could take longer.
I have no idea what is covered and what is not. What can or cannot be done. And I won't know until the end of the next week. I finish that call and cal the place where the car had been left. They say that they're backed up by a month, and can only glance at the car. I thank them and call Honda. I ask if the car can be delivered to a dealer with an autoshop or anywhere.
"We can't."
Within the 100 miles radius—and slightly beyond it—there were no Honda dealerships that could do anything about it. Not even because it's a newer car—but due to understaffing and backlog on parts. We have it in construction, as well. We can hardly get parts for tools and repairs due to Covid. I asked if I can even have the car left at a Honda shop so that it's there, safe, and can eventually be worked on.
None had any spaces.
So I call Auto shops within the area and beyond it. Tell the story again and what needs to be done. I called over thirty places. None could do anything, not even house the car, and they knew of none nearby that could do better. Left in this state, and thinking I wouldn't be leaving this town for quite some time... I nearly broke down.
I called home before leaving the Motel.
"Do we have any rope at home?"
"Don't think so... why?"
"Because I'd like to hang after this."
I went to McDonald's and, like I'd done three years ago, on another road trip across the States on a Motorcycle, I sat down, powered my laptop, and proceeded to write.
I'm not proud to say that I went into an Mc. Donalds and publicly wrote porn but, when you're unsure which way the cookie is going to crumbe, all you can do is write whatever will pay—and hope the granny behind you doesn't look over her shoulder. So I wrote and wrote, my soul lost inside the prose, as I figured this would be my life for the time being.
The people at the Autoshop said it would be okay if I wanted to sleep inside the car for a few days.
My family wished me well and... that was about the most I got out of them.
For the most part, I was a stranger in strange lands and, seeing how shit life had been up to this point, to me, this felt like the end.
I didn't want to take Shakes away from home due to the condition of his wife—and how me going there was supposed to be me cheering them up. I'd finally gotten a car and a somewhat proper job. I was finally starting to feel that independence where I could give help... instead of always being the one to ask for it.
But then this happened and, everything I'd spent the last few months building toward... was gone. Once more, I would have to ask for help and rides and, even after all this, maybe ride a motorcycle to work in Toronto after winter. But, thankfully, Shake was willing to make a six-hour trip for me. If it weren't for that, I do not know what would have become of me for the remainder of this week.
And then all of you came together.
I still want to say from the bottom of my heart, from the depth of my feet, from every atom that composes me: thank you. I don't know what goodness and kindness compelled so many to help a stranger in need—but I do not have the rhythm or words to pay the neccary appreciation for it. When people who know nothing of you, but give so much to support you... how does one return that?
I know people don't support for a reward and a return—but it still feels like you should do something. It's almost like a commission in a way where you need to provide enough words of proper gratitude in order to ensure those people know the amount of feet they have pulled you from the bottom of a freezing lake. I still have to send messages to all of those who supported, either with money or words, for I thought for sure that I would be alone in the snow.
I still don't know what will come next. The car, thankfully, is mostly safe. The guy who glanced at it, even though he didn't turn it on, ballparked it at $4000, USD, to fix.
I cried when I nearly heard that afterward.
I'm a strange kid. I connect deeply with inanimate things. Every bike I've had ever since I was a kid, I called them Jak. My motorcycle is named the same. When I first started riding it and I crashed on a turn in the woods, I nearly cried and called after it. The bike, of course, had no damage. My fucked shoulder—which still bears strained muscles—never worried me.
I'd named this car Ido. It's derived from Bushido. I don't know why—but the name stuck with me. With the bike, because I drove and it did so much it... I dunno. It was my partner. My friend. The one that camped in the woods with me and kept me company on long trips. I just connect to shit like that for whatever reason.
And with Ido... I had let it down. I had let this happen. I had fucked up and it took the hit.
Shakes drove me to the for the final time. He said, beyond the headlight, there is nearly no damage to it. All the important stuff is left a-okay. What had been killing me the whole time that the car was done. Dead. Finished. That it would be no more. I carried that weight the whole time even though I didn't know—and still don't know—the extent of the damage.
I grabbed my things from the car. Shakes was pulled next to it, needing to get back home to Mrs. Shakes. I placed my hand on the hood of my car as though it were for the last time. I closed my eyes, breathed and connected to it deeply, and said my apologies.
And then we left.
I have to pay 60$ dollars a day to park the car there for the time being. With how things are looking, I'll have to pay 1-3K$ to have the car transported back to Canada for Insurance to be able to do anything about it. I won't know for sure until I talk to them. But so far, I've been safe and sound at Shakes, and dealing with things the best that I can.
I still haven't thanked all of you as much as I should have; I'm still trying to gather myself together.
I'm sorry I let this happen. I wished I was more alert. I was going to pull up to the next service station to catch another nap. I didn't fall asleep behind the wheel or anything like that. But, at the same time, if I was more awake, more alert, then none of this might have happened. If I'm not extra careful like this in the future, it could happen again.
It was just. Three seconds. All of this happened in three seconds. I'd never had something like that happen before. And the worst part is I have no clue the full extent of what happened. Was the truck in my lane, or was I peeking over into theirs? I'd fallen into thinking the Smart Stuff about the car would guide me alright for the time being—instead of being fully aware myself.
But I... I just don't know.
And I guess that's my current state of things.
I don't know what happened, or what will happen.
Will I be able to get the car fixed here? Will I need to pay to have it shipped home? Can I get it shipped home, soon, for as cheaply as possible? What will insurance cover? Will I be able to get this done before I pay $500 dollars to have a car parked for a few days? Will I need to fly back down to grab it? Will I be provided with a rental car for work—or will I be driving the bike in the cold?
I just do not know.
But I know for sure that all of you have helped me and, with that care of concern, whatever may come next, I am better prepared to deal with it.
I'm not sure if life ever gets better.
But I hope it does.
I hope you are well.
(Also, if you made a donation to help me because your thoughts things might have been worse for me—or for whatever reason, please, do not worry about asking for your donation back. Life is tough; covid has made it harder. If, for whatever reason, you need that money back, no questions asked, I'll send it. Please feel no shame in asking.)
Well we are here for you so I hope that can bring some comfort.
ah yes, my favorite passtime: writing porn at mcdonalds
in all seriousness im glad youre ok and that everything went well, best wishes
😊✌
McDonald's is where I wrote most of my old works, since I had no home internet. Anyhow, glad you're safe and doing okay under the circumstances.
Having seen many a truck driven badly, i'm fully inclined to believe they fucked up moreso than you would've.
I'm sorry I haven't been there for you more, I'm glad Shakes can be there for you.
I'm just sorry I couldn't be send more.
You're loved by many, never forget that.
Glad you’re okay
Glad you’re well
*Hugs*
Glad you aren't attending an American ER; beware the machines, they're plotting to destroy us!
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There might be a TD Auto Center near you. If there is, tell them that you have TD car insurance, that you were in an accident recently, and that you would like to speak with an advisor. They can supposedly handle repairing the car, towing it, and giving you a rental. If you have collision coverage (which I think you do), all of these things should be covered. If the $4000 repair cost is a lot less than you paid for the car, they'll probably fix it instead of considering it totaled.
If you haven't done so already, make sure to tell TD that this was a hit-and-run and that you've already notified the police. That's going to be important when they're trying to assign fault, which might affect your premiums later.
Keep us posted. I donated a bit, and I'm happy to donate more to get you back to normal. You don't have to stress out over the expenses. It's good you didn't have to deal with our medical system
. If there's one thing us Americans excel at, it's our medical brand of hell.
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Thank you for taking care of our B.
Hey man, I'm really sorry about what happened.
I'm with you, dude. Always. Just keep pushin.
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I still need to write a millions of words of gratitude to you—and everyone else—in thanks for that support. I don't know when I can get to work on that.
But please know that this has helped me immensely. Thankfully, I have finally spoken to insurance and, even though I still won't know a lot for a while, at the very least, it seems as though there will be a measure of peace. It's thanks to everyone that I won't need a rope waiting for me back at home.
I talked to the person and told them it was a hit and run; I'd already listed the police report. I'm sure my rates will still take a hit for getting hit out of Cananda. The thing about insurance is that I never thought I'd ever actually use it. And, with how things went so terribly, I thought there was nearly nothing they could do about anything.
Thank you for the support and aid. I'm glad to see you still lurk around these parts. I miss the blogs you used to do as well.
I hope that you're doing well.
~ Yr. Pal, B
It is hard, but there are always brighter moments in everything. I am glad you are (relatively) well. That's what actually matters!