sorry sir but this is a library card

I went to the big wheel race, now you might be wondering what a big wheel race is- it’s an quintessential SF event where grownups, adults dress up and go down one of our most crooked streets on a big wheel, or a recycling bin, or a cooler, or a cool bike that they got from their kid-one of their own or one in their family- or a Mexican dude in the mission for $25. Long story short-it is entertainment at it’s best- there is the risk of getting in trouble because of the permit, because of the rules- but to see your favorite heroes dressed up going down a hill and possibly eat shit- it’s definitely worth it. For the last two years I have been a spectator- I haven’t got the courage up to actually join in the parade.

So last year as I walked home full of laughter and full of the beginning of beers I had hoped to consume, little did I know sobriety would be mine. I saw a man, I saw man, I saw a man repeatedly hit a car. Now it took me a second to realize, realize in fact it was mine, my nanny mobile, my Toyota of reliability. Oh shit. I couldn’t do anything but watch for a moment, until, until I sprung into action. Action. I tried to get him to stop. But he kept turning his car in the parking space directly, directly into the side of my car. The same dent, in and out, in and out. Shit this isn’t even my car. What is wrong this dude? He finally stops and is now at a diagonal, his oversized lincoln aka an old person car is horizontally in the space. For a moment. A reprieve. A pause. So I am freaking out because this isn’t even my car but my employer’s. My employer’s. It doesn’t take long to figure out there is something wrong with this guy more, more than the usual, more than the inability to park without running into things. He couldn’t park the car without direction, or with it for that matter. So he allowed for one of my friends, the host of the party to put his hands on the wheel to direct him into the spot. No more dents. Thank God.

So this is where it gets interesting. Because it wasn’t interesting enough. I approach the car. And begin. Begin to talk to him. He is slurring. His eyes are rolling back in his head. He is a serious lump on a log. He is drunk, he is on drugs, he is on something. He is not my favorite person. This is not my lucky day. Or is it? I begin to ask for his insurance. He is mumbling. I think he is saying sorry. I think he might be falling asleep while I talk talk to him. I need his insurance, I say. He slowly drags his body through the one seat, the one seat in the front seat, first his torso then his heavy legs, his head collapses forward. Then springs forward again, then the mumbling. He is mumbling still and trying to find the insurance in his glove box. Trying to. He eventually hands me his insurance card. I look down to see one of the colorful library cards of our great city of san francisco. Without skipping a beat, without yelling, without losing my shit I said, sir, this is your library card, now I am not sure what you want me to do with this, but I need your insurance card. Oh this takes the cake. I guess he needed some books. I need some books too. How to deal with a man under the influence of many things when he has hit your scratch that I mean your employer’s car multiple times. Someone needs to write this. Also a book on how this might be funny if it wasn’t my life. Okay it is funny. It is my life.

He never produced his insurance, he never produced a check of sobriety, he never left the car. I gave up and found myself back at the party. I wanted to get drunk but refrained. My new friend he was wiped out, he took a nap in his car. I repeat he took a nap in his car. I had no other choice then turn him in- part of me felt bad- but I needed the info, I needed to know he wouldn’t drive again any time soon. So after vacillating between the right and wrong. I called the cops. They knocked on his car window and woke him up. He took the test and failed.

I did get the insurance information, I did find out he was on medication- thanks SFPD but that is more than just medication- they did take him away- the dent did pop out. I did find out there was a video. A video of the whole thing. The whole thing of me freaking out. I haven’t seen it- but when it releases at a local apartment near you- I promise to invite you. Okay maybe not. A private viewing might make more sense.