KITT does stunt work

Moments after my last post, I was driving along and was hit by a guy in his car. I was going east, he was going west and turning south on the intersection, and he drove right into my lane.

Long story short, it was his fault. Like you ever doubted me.

So I’m fine, he’s fine, KITT is a bit screwed up on the front fender/light/blinker area on the driver’s side. But his car was a fucking mess. Like Mr Potato Head when all his features fly off, the guy’s car was spread halfway across Fountain and Vine. It was so bad that he couldn’t drive away.

So we do the whole exchange numbers/details/are you ok?/etc and wait for the cops to arrive. He’s a young guy, pretty shaken and profusely apologetic for all the trouble he’s caused.

Instead of a cop though we get fire engines, ambulances, sirens, all singing. It was a show and a half. It occurs to me that since the cop was a no go, I might be in luck to nab a fireman, which would mean then that I’d have to do all of the Village People to complete the set.

While I wonder what the sexy fireman is doing on Saturday night, he tells me and the guy that we need to go to the cop shop around the corner to make a report.

Naturally, we take my car. And you’ll never guess which police station it is. Here I am again, sans lost dog, but with one eye out for the Psycho Cop (I don’t know this for a fact, but hey, I’m not taking any chances.)

I don’t see him anywhere, so I begin to fill out my details on a form, when I feel a hot gaze. I look up. Hello Sarge. Shit.

Sarge: Do I know you?

Me: Don’t think so.

Sarge: You were in here once before right?

Me: No.

Sarge: With a dog.

I wonder if I have soiled myself.

Me: Not me. But I did just have an acccident with this guy here.

Sarge: Ok.

He walks off sceptically while I make up a new address that doesn’t exist to give to the cop behind the counter. Exit stage right, hot gaze burning a hole in the back of my head.

Fast forward to a week later, I’ve done all my bits to get the insurance thing rolling, then a call comes in from my insurance company. The kid who was walking around apologizing, now says that I ran a red light, he has neck and back pain, a witness conjured out of thin air and a lawyer asking for my policy limits.

Turns out the car was insured in his parents name and in LA, everyone is waiting for their chance to sue and hit the jackpot. I fume and curse and hate everyone in LA for two days. Until I get another call from Ana at my insurance co:

Ana: You’re not going to believe this.

Me: His parents are now suffering trauma from the stress their son has undergone, they are unable to have sex and so now want to take away my house?

Ana: Ah, no. I interviewed their witness who couldn’t really describe you very well.

Me: That’s because she’s never set eyes on me.

Ana: Well she said that you were in the intersection when the light changed to orange.

Me: I was. But if she said that….?

Ana: Then she’s supported your case, not theirs.

Me: So what happens now?

Ana: I file this under greedy and stupid and we go after their arses. People like this piss me off and if I have to go to their house myself with an AK-47 to get your check, better believe it’s gonna happen bee-yatch! (these are not her exact words but that’s how they made me feel).

So now, needless to say, their insurance company is stalling on my claim, but it’s open and shut now. I hope I run into him again. I’ll make sure to reverse as well.

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This entry was posted in Driving, How LA Works, KITT, LA Customs, Psycho Cop, Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

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