I bought my first car at twenty one. A used, red Alfa Romeo sedan with a sun-roof. I'd been on my own for seven years by then and made my own rules. One of them was driving without a valid driver's license. I bought the car and registered it using a learner's license.
Two weeks after my big purchase, I was driving Nat, a girl I dated, to college when I had an accident. At the entrance to a freeway, a driver cut into my lane and slammed on his brakes to avoid crashing into another car. I braked, but still drove into the van. The irate driver jumped out and accused me of reckless driving. My car had a dent, but his van seemed untouched. The law states that in an accident, the person who drives into the vehicle in front is at fault. By law, I was at fault. When the man asked for my license number, I refused. He stormed off, muttering something about calling the police.
Nat was late for class. After dropping her off, I headed to work. A police car started trailing me and the siren went on. I pulled over and the cop came up to my window.
"Were you involved in an accident earlier this morning?"
"Yes, I was. Look, it wasn't my fault and I have a witness."
"Have you been drinking?"
"No."
Pulls out a breathalyzer. "Please blow into this." I took a deep breath and exhaled into the breathalyzer.
"Alright, can I see your license?"
I handed him my L's
"You don't have L-plates on your car and you're not allowed to drive alone on a learner's permit. Please step out of the car."
I did.
"I have to file a report, the man with the damaged van may press charges against you. Nothing serious, but you'll have to pay for the repairs. For now, you'll have to leave the car here and get someone else to pick it up."
I called Nat and explained what had just happened. She left her unfinished patterns at design school and caught a cab to come to my rescue. We stuck P-plates on the car and worked our way through busy roads. The car was wedged in between a long line of cars and a tram on a steep road. Unknown to us, the dent in my car had pushed the radiator fan into contact with a wire. The burnt wire set off the fuse switch that powered the car and smoke filled the interior as the car shut down without warning. The ignition wouldn't respond. Cars and trams stood waiting behind us. We got out to push the car to the side. Two big blokes helped us guide the car into a petrol station.
One of the men reached in through the driver's side and yanked the hand brake to prevent the car from sliding into the petrol station. The car was perfectly placed at the entrance. Other cars started lining up behind it. Nat got back into the car and tried to get the hand brake off. It was jammed. As she tried to release the brake, the two men decided to push the car anyway and right then, the brake came unstuck.
My shiny red car crashed into the first petrol bowser. The passenger side of the car was smashed and the petrol bowser was a wreck. We escaped injury, but my car was a write-off.
I couldn't apply for a full license for three years and had to pay a fine for reckless driving. The manager of the petrol station found a spare bowser. A replacement bowser would have cost fifteen thousand dollars if she wasn't insured. I didn't qualify for insurance without a proper license. The salvage yard paid a few hundred dollars for spare parts from my car.
That one day was an expensive lesson.
Two weeks after my big purchase, I was driving Nat, a girl I dated, to college when I had an accident. At the entrance to a freeway, a driver cut into my lane and slammed on his brakes to avoid crashing into another car. I braked, but still drove into the van. The irate driver jumped out and accused me of reckless driving. My car had a dent, but his van seemed untouched. The law states that in an accident, the person who drives into the vehicle in front is at fault. By law, I was at fault. When the man asked for my license number, I refused. He stormed off, muttering something about calling the police.
Nat was late for class. After dropping her off, I headed to work. A police car started trailing me and the siren went on. I pulled over and the cop came up to my window.
"Were you involved in an accident earlier this morning?"
"Yes, I was. Look, it wasn't my fault and I have a witness."
"Have you been drinking?"
"No."
Pulls out a breathalyzer. "Please blow into this." I took a deep breath and exhaled into the breathalyzer.
"Alright, can I see your license?"
I handed him my L's
"You don't have L-plates on your car and you're not allowed to drive alone on a learner's permit. Please step out of the car."
I did.
"I have to file a report, the man with the damaged van may press charges against you. Nothing serious, but you'll have to pay for the repairs. For now, you'll have to leave the car here and get someone else to pick it up."
I called Nat and explained what had just happened. She left her unfinished patterns at design school and caught a cab to come to my rescue. We stuck P-plates on the car and worked our way through busy roads. The car was wedged in between a long line of cars and a tram on a steep road. Unknown to us, the dent in my car had pushed the radiator fan into contact with a wire. The burnt wire set off the fuse switch that powered the car and smoke filled the interior as the car shut down without warning. The ignition wouldn't respond. Cars and trams stood waiting behind us. We got out to push the car to the side. Two big blokes helped us guide the car into a petrol station.
One of the men reached in through the driver's side and yanked the hand brake to prevent the car from sliding into the petrol station. The car was perfectly placed at the entrance. Other cars started lining up behind it. Nat got back into the car and tried to get the hand brake off. It was jammed. As she tried to release the brake, the two men decided to push the car anyway and right then, the brake came unstuck.
My shiny red car crashed into the first petrol bowser. The passenger side of the car was smashed and the petrol bowser was a wreck. We escaped injury, but my car was a write-off.
I couldn't apply for a full license for three years and had to pay a fine for reckless driving. The manager of the petrol station found a spare bowser. A replacement bowser would have cost fifteen thousand dollars if she wasn't insured. I didn't qualify for insurance without a proper license. The salvage yard paid a few hundred dollars for spare parts from my car.
That one day was an expensive lesson.