A few months ago, tooling along in my cute new Honda, I came to a stop at a red light. On my right, a police cruiser with lights flashing was investigating a fender bender. A total of three cars, the two that were in the accident plus the police car, were off on the shoulder to the right. I was waiting for the light to change when — bam — someone crashed into me from behind. One of the police officers instructed us to pull over to the side near the other two cars. “Everybody okay?” My husband and I nodded. “I saw the whole thing,” he said “so this won’t take long.”
As we were filling out paperwork and exchanging insurance information (the other driver was mortified and cooperative), yet another car rear-ended a third car waiting at the red light. The road was so strewn with red and white glass that it looked like a holiday display. When my husband and I expressed amazement at the three crashes within the space of about eight minutes, the officer shrugged. “It happens all the time.”
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