Crash. Out of control, I’ve hit something. Oh, I hope no one is hurt. I’ve made a complete circle with this rental car. Can’t even figure out which way I was going.
Here I am traveling down this strange part of Cleveland toward a meeting with a contractor, just minding my own business when out of nowhere this car flashes in front of me and I have no time to even slow down. Give me a break. I can’t believe this bozo just run a stop sign. Wait, is it a patrol car from Cleveland’s finest? I wonder what got into him.
In the middle of the intersection of Main and another very forgettable alley, I don’t know what happened. Where did he come from. Where is it now.
I looked toward the corner and several people of dubious character from the bar across the street are already gathering around without stepping into the street. Someone yells: “Tell them you’re hurt. Get a Neck Brace.” Tell who. Where am I. Everything happened so fast.
Suddenly, I see the patrol car across the intersection, the young officer steps out of the vehicle and approaches my car cautiously. He is a very young man, perhaps early, very early 20’s. He asks if I am hurt and I say I don’t think so.
Now, I have a banged up rental car; what am I supposed to do with it. Perhaps I am going to jail in Ohio. Of all the people in the world to hit, why one of Cleveland's finest.
The young officer tells me is his first week alone on patrol and he is so excited to have finally graduated from the Academy, he was confused on how to react during an emergency; he received a screechy call on his radio to assist a robbery in progress so he rushed across the street without looking at the traffic, without turning his emergency lights on or the siren that advises other drivers of his approach or to see if the street is clear of other vehicles. I understand, I said.
The chief of police has arrived by this time and tells me to get out of there, pronto. He doesn’t want to see me around anymore; I asked him what to do. “To call the rental car company and report the incident; they will give me another car that is drivable,” he said. End of story. So easy for him to say so. Had I been the one running the stop sign, who knows what his reaction would have been.
So I do as he says. The rental agency agrees if the car is drivable, keep it; no extra charge. Thank you very much. So for the rest of the week, I’m driving this rental banged up car with an indentation in the front fender.
To make things more believable I taped a sign on the fender: “THIS DENT WAS CAUSED BY A CLEVELAND POLICE OFFICER WHEN HE RAN A STOP SIGN”. Somehow this makes me feel a lot better especially when I see people snickering and giving me the thumbs up sign.
Do I call my insurance company? The rental agency’s suggestion is not to worry. I find out later the local police department has an agreement with the car rental agencies not to report any accidents caused by their officers. Is that justice? What if it had been the other way around; I probably would still be in a Cleveland jail.