So after my first snow emergency in the new city, I have decided that the city of Columbus collectively craps itself at the first sign of bad weather.
I decided not to take any interstates to work this morning because I didn’t want to die (it’s a deadline day, after all) so instead I took High Street up to work. Unfortunately, it was pretty much covered in slush and snow, and traction was low, and my car slid (very slowly) into the huge black SUV in front of me.
The young guy driving got out and yelled for me to follow him to the parking lot he was heading toward. I did, and he very carefully got all my information, like my license plate number, my driver’s license number, my insurance policy number, cell phone number, etc.
“Have you been in an accident before?” I asked, surprised at his knowledge of how to handle the situation.
“God, yes,” was all he said, as he wrote down all the things he needed.
Once he had that, he ran off.
“I gotta go teach a class,” he said, jogging back to his car.
“But… wait!” I said. Wasn’t I supposed to get all his crap, too?
But he was gone. I scribbled down his license number as he sped off.
It doesn’t much matter, because I am not filing an insurance claim for my piece of crap station wagon, but I am pretty sure there is a law about exchanging info in a car accident. All I know about that guy is his license plate number and that he supposedly is a professor at OSU. Oh, well. As long as he doesn’t teach any ethics classes.