I was sitting at the juice bar, working on the bank book, when suddenly I heard a loud scream followed by a massive thumping sound so I ran outside.
Someone had crashed into the side of our building.
There, in front of my eyes, laid a woman on the ground, a man getting up beside her, and an older woman getting out of the car that was crunched up against our building and smoking. It didn't take long for me to put together the pieces of what had happened nor did it take long for a crowd of noisy spectators to form.
The short of the story of what had happened was an older Korean woman driving her car accidentally slammed on the gas pedal instead of the break in an attempt to not hit a couple walking by. The car obviously then accelerated, the couple got hit, and the car crashed right into the side of our building. The older woman works at a restaurant up the road from Hulk's and the middle aged couple may have just finished dining out together and were walking in the street when this most unfortunate event took place.
I felt super bad for everyone involved but then I didn't.
The husband drove me bonkers because though I can understand him for being totally and rightfully ticked at the driver, he spent so much of his time and energy focusing on the driver and yelling at her. What's done is done, you can't change that though I'm sure the older woman, the driver, wishes more than anyone that she could change it. So while the husband was busy flexing his I-am-man-I-am-angry ego, his wife laid in the middle of our parking lot moaning in complete pain and totally alone while everyone stood there watching. He never once tried to comfort his wife. Oh correction, once he did. He knelt down and put his hand on her shoulder in which she then shreaked in pain.
Snickers called the ambulance and helped guide them to the location but then I urged him repetitively to try to talk to the lady who had been hit. It was obvious that she was in pain and that she was scared but no one was saying anything to her, not even her husband. He was too busy yelling and pacing around the lot to even realize he really should try to be comforting his wife. I wanted to but thought perhaps my broken Korean would maybe frustrate her. I ended up trying to comfort her myself though after it was obvious no one else would and her husband wasn't going to shut up any time soon with his silly yelling and pacing. I told her to hold on, stay strong, and that the police and ambulance are coming. When the ambulance arrived the paramedics jumped out to tend to her. They had a really hard time moving her on to the stretcher because she was in so much pain and so banged up -- I suspect at least a couple of broken bones. She hollered whenever they tried to move her, poor thing. You couldn't help but just feel so terrible for her and so helpless with wanting her to not be in so much pain.
I felt terrible for the older woman too, the driver. No one in their right mind would wish to hurt someone like she had just did and she must have felt like the worst person ever. And then she had that lady's husband yelling and swearing at her like she was some kind of juvenile diligent. No one thought to check her out, to see if she was physically okay from the accient. I mean sure she didn't get hit by a car but she did get hit. She got hit by a massive eight floor building that stopped her car dead in it's tracks and I doubt she was wearing her seat belt. Who is to know but her whether or not she smacked her head on her steering wheel but no one cared to ask her. That was wrong.
By the time the police, ambulance and insurance men had come, I don't think there was anyone standing there that felt sorry for the husband. He was, what my friends here are convinced is a Canadian word, a dink. He was a big, royal dink -- so completely preoccupied with making the driver feel worse than she already felt and so completely unconcerned with trying to comfort his wife who laid in the middle of our parking lot crying, moaning in pain, and completely vulnerable to everyone's stares. Which brings me to a comment someone made to me, about them feeling sorry for the lady who was hit not only because she had been hit but because she married a dink. I agreed and then I told Snickers, "Don't ever be a dink like him or I'll hit you with a car myself".
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