Father – Car – Crash

An hour ago I heard that my father had a terrible car accident while driving my car. Actually, he wasn’t driving it, but a good friend of his was, and he was in the passenger seat. The last thing he remembered was turning onto a road, and the next thing is that he was tens of yards away, on the ground, with police standing over him. He broke his eye-socket and his cheekbone and is pretty banged up, but relatively alright. His friend is less okay. He broke ribs, punctured lungs and other nastiness. He is in a stable condition at the hospital. My father, who wasn’t driving, refused to submit to a blood test until he knew his friend was alright, and was saved from arrest by the police by the ambulance arriving, the personell of which demanded the police uncuff him so he could be treated. When I spoke to him he had gotten a nurse to help him escape the hospital unnoticed by the police who are undoubtedly still there waiting for him, so that he could go home. He said he would go and sort things out in the morning, which means he’ll probably be arrested for a misdemeanor.

Anyway, he’s relatively alright, and “won’t be playing football tomorrow,” like he said, but my car is, again, like he said, “alright, except that the front part is no longer connected to the back part.” Bye bye, car.