The other night, I responded to a traffic collision involving a vehicle and a pedestrian on a major highway on the west side of the city. When I got there, I saw the fire truck in the middle of the street, along with a couple of police cars.
The pedestrian, who was about 45 years old, was lying in the street with fire personnel around her. She was awake and complaining about her arm. After she was loaded into the ambulance, I walked over to the driver, who was bathed in the flashing red and blue lights of the emergency vehicles.
The driver was wearing a powdered blue polo shirt with the Honda logo on it, which I recognized from the commercials. He had a serious look on his face , which I understood because of what he’d just been through. As I walked up, the officer next to the male said, “He’s the driver.”
I looked at the driver and said, “You’re the helpful Honda guy.”
A strange look flashed across his face. It was like he wasn’t sure if he should laugh, be worried or try and sell me a car.