Ambulance Chasing in the new Millennium.

Ain’t technology great?

I saw an ad on T.V. today that was encouraging parents to make sure their teen drivers were prepared in case of an accident. 

Buckle up?

No. 

Good insurance?

No. 

Emergency pack with First-Aid kit?

No.

What your teen REALLY needs is this:

Why call mom and dad first, when you can immediately contact a Personal Injury Lawyer with the push of a button.

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I got in my first accident the day after I got my driver’s license.  I borrowed my parent’s 1974 Dodge Van, the huge, pre-minivan type, and went to K-Mart.  While trying to park the behemoth, I creamed a Volkswagen Rabbit in the next stall.  Put a crease in the front quarter-panel that was a foot long and almost an inch deep at it’s worst.

My first reaction was “Oh crap*, mom’s gonna kill me.”, not “Better call a lawyer.”

*Ok, I didn’t really say “crap”.  It was a much longer conglomeration of words which I see no reason to repeat here, and can’t remember the exact order and repetitive pattern anyway.

I was pretty shaken up, I’d had my license for less than 24 hours and already killed a Rabbit.  I left a note on the windshield with my name and phone number and promptly went home to let my parents know.

My parents were understanding about stuff like that.  Wreck a car and they say “That’s why we have insurance!” after asking if everyone is ok.  (Misplace a screw driver and they’d call the FBI, but even when I wrecked my mom’s brand new car all I got was “Go call the insurance agent.”)

The guy who owned the Rabbit called a little later and when I told him I was 16, just got my license and that my mom would talk to him, he let out a quiet “Oh, crap.” too.  (His actually was real close to “crap”, he refrained from using any colorful expletives).

My mom got on the phone, gave him all the information he needed and that was the last I ever heard of it.

Except for my siblings, who, for the next few years, liked to remind me that I killed a Rabbit on my second day with a license.