December 13, 2009

At 25, my Friday nights have begun to wind down from all-night partying to late dinners at a quiet restaurant, catching up on Grey’s Anatomy episodes, and quite frequently, passing out on the couch, exhausted and fully-clothed. One Friday, after a late night dinner, I lingered in my car for a few minutes looking for something to play on my iPod. Suddenly I saw this car backing up behind me–fast and a little too close for comfort. And then at that split second I knew it was going to happen; this crazy ass driver was going to hit my car. And of course it did. I stepped out of my Hyundai, annoyed but calm. The car stops in the middle of the parking lot and a teenage girl comes running up to me. “Oh my god, oh my god, i’m sorry, I didn’t see you,” she says. How could you not see me, I wasn’t moving? We examine my bumper together, desperately trying to erase scratches with our bare hands. “Are you going to call the cops?” she asked me. “Are you drunk?” I asked her. “No, I’m not! I just came from a 3-hour classical concert and it totally messed with my head.” OMGIMTHEADULTHERE.

-Kris Alcantara

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4 Responses to “”

  1. karmazon Says:

    Should have honked

  2. ug Says:

    At 25 you still have about 15 years of good hard partying left. Get your lazy bum off the couch. Otherwise you will turn into a lame middle age person by the time you are 26.


  3. […] when you’re in a car accident with a teenage driver and somebody has to remember to take pictures, write down insurance info, and call the […]


  4. […] untitled December 2009 3 comments 3 […]


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