We Hope A Little (Good) Instant Karma Heads Their Way

In 2007, I am involved in a traffic accident on a ramp on the freeway in Baltimore. Traffic goes from the speed limit — fifty-five miles per hour — to a dead stop around the curve of the exit in a space of 500 feet, AND it has just started raining. My Honda Accord and I manage to stop literal inches from the bumper of the car in front of me. I have enough time to have half a sigh of relief before I am rear-ended so hard that the can of tea in my waist-level console cupholder winds up splattered all over the windshield.

I get out of the car, and the person who hit me is literally crying blood. She’s driving a Saturn that is at least a decade old, and the ancient airbag broke her nose and blacked both of her eyes. She’s also crying for real because this is her only transportation.

I go, “F***,” grab an umbrella out of my now weirdly-shaped backseat, and hold it over her while she sobs.

Girl: “My brakes have been locking up lately. I was literally on my way to the mechanic!”

She tries to text her boyfriend to pick her up. She’s crying so hard that she drops her phone twice.

And then a cop shows up.

He writes this girl a ticket for “failure to control speed to avoid an accident”, “reckless endangerment”, and half a dozen other bulls*** things to the point that the ticket will literally cost more than a new car and she might get her license revoked and/or jail time.

She’s hysterical. I talk to her, reassure her that it’s not her fault, and manage to swap insurance information with her.

Fast forward two months. I had mild whiplash, but I’m healed up and mostly good regarding the accident. I have a new car and everything. I get a notice in the mail that I am requested to be a witness for this poor girl’s trial for her ticket; I don’t have to show, but it’d be nice.

F*** if I’m gonna let that cop roast her. I was asked, so I’m taking a day off work to show up.

I turn up in court dressed in my civil servant best. I’m working for the state government at the time, so however staid you imagine that outfit looking, multiply it by three. I even toss on some makeup to impress the judge. I wait three hours for her hearing, because h*** if I’m gonna accidentally be late. The cop goes first, making up a bunch of bulls*** about how recklessly she was driving to have hit me in an accident he was probably ten miles away from witnessing based on his response time.

Then, the judge calls me, and I stand up. The cop looks this weird combo of Surprised Pikachu Face and pissed — like he didn’t expect me to show. The poor girl was already crying, and she starts crying more.

I get to the stand, get sworn in, and tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.

Me: “We were going exactly the speed limit. I know because I checked my speedometer in surprise that there wasn’t more traffic. [Girl] was following a proper distance behind me; I checked my rearview mirror and she was a ways off. It had just started raining after a dry week, so the road was very greasy; I knew that because I’d almost slid into the car in front of me, only saved by my car’s ABS [anti-lock braking system]. [Girl]’s wheels locked; I heard the screech and saw the skid marks. She definitely wasn’t at fault because she was on her way to get her car’s old ABS fixed.”

I also mention:

Me: “[Cop] didn’t show up until twenty minutes later.”

I know this sounds like an “…and everyone clapped!” moment, but the judge did thank me for doing my civic duty and turning up. And I got a quick hug from the poor girl after the judge dismissed her charges.

Anyway, if you can turn up in court to fight a traffic ticket (even someone else’s), you should do so.