Why the elderly should take more driver's tests.

So, I was on my way to the doctor’s office for a physical on Thursday morning. I’m a couple of miles from the office at a stoplight with two cars in front of me and none in back of me. As the light turns green and I’m waiting for the other cars to take off, I notice a white Ford Escort barreling down the lane to my left.

Except for the fact that she is in both her lane AND MINE.

So, I can see it coming. “Oh shit.” I calmly say out loud.

And a split second later, the Escort hits the driver’s side of my car, scraping the doors and eliminating the side view mirror.

Apparently, this driver does not particularly care for Mercury Sables.

Not that I blame her.

I digress.

The driver, seemingly unaware that she had damaged my vehicle at all, keeps driving.

This is when I instantly became insane. Well, much more insane than usual.

I follow her for a mile or two, beeping wildly and motioning for her to pull over. She finally realizes that she needs to pull over, and does so on a side street.

I exit my car to assess the damage. Believe it or not, despite my feeling the car scraping against mine, there is no apparent damage to the doors. Only the mirror is destroyed.

This is still more than enough to considerably piss me off at 8:45 a.m., one of my grumpier times of the day.

I glance over at the driver and her car. I see a cane pop out and she ever-so-slowly exits her vehicle. She is quite elderly, to say the least. Several minutes later, she finally makes it over to my car to look at it.

I ask in that calm-yet-extremely-agitated-and-about-to-lose-it tone of voice, “Ma’am, do you realize what you have done?”

“I didn’t think I hit you THAT hard!” was her reply.

“Was there a reason you didn’t stop for a good mile or two?” I ask.

“Well, like I said,” she responds. “I didn’t think I hit you THAT hard.”

Apparently, hitting someone’s car “not that hard” means you don’t have to stop or anything. Humph. Silly me.

As calmly as I can, I explain to her that indeed, a driver has a responsibility to stop for every car that he/she hits, as there is at least the potential for damage. She nods a little and says she’s sorry. Honestly, the woman seems a bit tripped up on something. Or senile. Maybe both.

I then ask her for her information: license, proof of insurance, all that jazz.

I check out her license and discover she was born in 1915.

Jesus Christ. She’s 92 years old!

I write it all down and head to my appointment. The nurse takes my blood pressure and asks me if there’s a reason I can think of as to why it would be so high. I let her know that a very elderly woman decided she didn’t much care for my mirror.

I get home and call up my insurance company to make the claim. Immediately after I hang up, the phone rings. Its little Mrs. McF, asking if she can pay out-of-pocket for the damage. I tell her calmly that I have already reported the accident and she should do the same. She huffs and hangs up.

I had some initial problems with her insurance company, but fortunately, I took care of that. No big deal.

And this is why elderly drivers should be getting driver’s tests at least once per year. It scares me that this woman is still driving around in her little Ford Escort, completely oblivious to the fact that next time, she could hit a child walking down the sidewalk.