How to wreck you new car in 1 easy lesson

One month after I got my license I was driving home from a friend's house and tried to pass some guy who was going about 10 miles an hour under the speed limit. As soon as I got next to him he sped up and I saw semi coming in the lane right at me. I was driving my late 70's Chevy pick-up when I ran into this little Cavalier and forced him off the road. I missed the semi by about 10 feet. It was a stupid move to pass the guy at that point but when I went to court the judge only fined me $2 once I gave him my story. I haven't hit anything with my car since.

When my mom was teaching me how to drive a few years back, i miss calculated a curve and ended up with the family car on top of the boulevard of the avenue.
I had tons of cars honking at me and it was a busy avenue. I cracked under pressure, got off the car and walked home. Left my mom to deal with it.

I have what could be the ultimate dumb thing with car story.

The day before I left for college, I took my truck to get the oil changed. A lot of places now drive your car in for you, but at this place, you idled at one end of the garage, and an attendant at the other end directed you in over the service trough. I'm slowly creeping in, and the last sound I remember is "WAIT! WAIT!" Before I know it, half of my truck (the entire left side) is actually down in the service trough. So I'm sitting in the driver's seat, and my shoulder is level with the garage floor. Getting ready to leave home for the first time, I was already a ball of stress, and I just remember staring ahead in disbelief, then after a few moments, screaming "Fuck!"

I managed to climb my way out (through the passanger door, natch). In terms of actual damage to the car I was pretty lucky. I'd landed on the transaxle, so the the one corner of the service trough didn't puncture any vital systems. Everything was fine mechanically. Except for some yellow caution paint on the tire (you know, so people know where the edge of the pit is so they don't, say, drive into it), you'd never know what trauma the truck had been through. But it took two different tow trucks to get my truck out, one on each end. I sheepishly asked one of the guys there if this happens a lot. And he said, "Yeah, uh, maybe twice a year." He did not actually do that jerking-off-to-the-air motion, but I know he was thinking it. I felt like such a moron.

Now, to this day I have a fear of getting my oil changed the way most people are afraid of flying. I only go where they drive in for you. (Note: I am fully aware that I could avoid this problem by changing my own oil. I have neither the knowledge nor the wherewithal to do this.)

For my first lesson at driving stick-shift with my mom, as I was pulling away from the curb, I popped the clutch and the car jumped into street and crossed into oncoming traffic, where a semi was waiting to greet us. I swerved to the left and smashed the car into the curb, avoiding the semi but destroying both of the car's front tires.

My mom gave me a big hug and exclaimed, "I guess I don't need to worry about your reflexes!"

It took almost a year before I could convince my dad to take me out for my second lesson.

Oh, of course, I think everyone's probably done something dumb while learning to drive, Ken, don't feel bad.

I learned to drive a little later than most teenagers, I was 18. My dad decided to teach me to drive with the old "sink or swim" approach - he taught me to drive in Ocean City, NJ summer tourist traffic. Ever been to Ocean City, NJ in the summer? PACKED. Wall to wall people, all out of towners, many of whom don't know the local rules of the road, what streets are one way, where you can and can't park, so they're always screeching back out in reverse, things like that. But he figured if I learned to drive among absolute maniacs, I could drive anywhere (he was wrong - I caused an accident two weeks after I got my license, entirely my fault, too).

So, I was absolutely terrified. The total sum of my driving lessons consisted of me freaking out and jamming on the brakes as tourist kids skateboarded right out in front of the car, ran out in front of the car if the ice cream truck was right across the street, ran out in front of the car because they had a surfboard up in front of their faces, etc.

During one lesson, we're nearing the end of the day, my nerves are raw, but my dad annouces that before we go home, he needs to stop at the bank. Now, this was 1982, so there were barely any ATMs around at that point, especially in Ocean City. Back then, "convenient banking" meant going through one of the drive through teller lanes before the bank closed.

Of course, I know *full well* what he wants me to do - he wants to teach me how to negotiate one of the drive through teller lanes, where they have these kiosk machines that shoot a plastic tube through to you from the bank, you put your banking paperwork in that, and shoot it back through to them. So I'm not having any of it. Like a fucking smart ass, I pull into one of the parking slots so he can walk INTO the bank. I smarm to him, "There you go - we're at the bank."

He says, "Ohhhh, no you don't. I want to go through the drive in. I want YOU to drive us through the drive in." I balk big time, "No, Dad! I can't! It's too narrow, I can't do it!" He insisted, so I didn't have a whole lot of choice.

I'm practically cursing him under my breath as I back the car out, turn around, and head for the auto-teller machines. I try to negotiate my way into the drive through - and drove UP onto the island that the machine is on and hit it. Pretty much all I did was scratch the paint, but I HIT the fucking thing, so it made a really huge ugly screeching and scraping sound. It sounded worse than it actually was. And of course, accompanying the screeching and scraping was my dad yelling, "JESUS CHRIST, ELISA!" Which - when your full name is used by one of your parents? Meant alot of trouble.

So I throw the car into park and immediately begin yelling back at him, "I told you I couldn't do it! I told you it would be a disaster! This is ALL YOUR FAULT!" Which pretty much took balls - I hit the damn thing, and still had the stones to blame my dad! Oh, sure, we laugh about it now...

Well, it wasn't my car. I pulled out in front of a very expensive speeding car on a busy thoroughfare here in L.A., got t-boned, totaled the girlfriend's car and the other brand new expensive-ass (47 miles on the odometer) car, received a ticket for not having the insurance card on me, and got sued.

Good times!

When I was all-too-briefly living in L.A., I almost drove into one of the flood canals thinking it was an offramp of some sort. It just got narrower and narrower and narrower(and weedier). I new something was amiss, but I drove pretty far and had to do a massive bit of "reverso driving!". No damage was done, but I felt like a fucking idiot.

I also wrecked the fuck out of my Volvo by hitting a deer. The deer came fast from out of nowhere from the right, and considering the deer's speed, I quickly zigged right thinking the doe would be past that point. Go figure, the "deer in headlights" effect kicked in, and I could not have hit it more squarely if I had tried.

Back before my sophmore year at Monmouth U., I was working a summer job manufacturing disposable hospital equipment. It was there I met my first steady girlfriend, and the day I asked her out for the first time was the day I fucked up the passenger side of my '88 Celica GT that I just got a week before.

When I was getting ready to leave for the day, my car was kind of wedged between her car and the plant manager's 4x4. As I tried to avoid hitting her car (thereby killing any hope of a date), I didn't pay attention and wound up denting the whole passenger side of my car with the 4X4's raised fender. The crunch was loud enough for everyone to hear, but checking the damage on his truck, you'd be hard pressed to find any (solid metal fender). What killed me was when my dad saw it. He took one look, then started shaking his head sadly. I'd rather he started yelling at me.

Oh, and my date with the girl went great. We were together for almost a year when she dumped my ass, 'cause she had "issues" thanks to Spielberg's Empire of the Sun. Don't ask. In hindsight, I should've hit her car instead.

I've never done anything stupid with my car. To me it doesn't make sense to be an idiot with your car considering how dangerous they can be and what could happen to others. Plus insurance costs and what not don't warrant taking risks with the car. And I like my car, a 2001 Pontiac Grand Prix. So I treat it good.

I have, however, been in two accidents both of which were not my fault. A guy slide out of his driveway in the winter time and I couldn't stop in time to avoid him. He was at fault since he "failed to yield to oncoming traffic". Another time some stupid broad nailed me from behind 'cause she was chatting away on her cell phone.

One time while taking a driving a test, I turned down a road and there was a card board box sitting in the middle of the road. I had no idea what to do. I was panicking because I was being tested. So I had to think fast. Should I pull over and move it off the road? Would that be ok to do? Should I try and go around it? Shit! I can't cars are parked on the side of the road. Fuck it! I ran it over. The guy didn't say anything about it so I guess it was a good call.

I got into an accident about a month after getting my license. Small rearender, but since the other guys car was a jeep and mine was a toyota cellica convertible, it fucked up my hood pretty bad. Joey Buttafuco fixed my car that time.

Once someone backed into my car in a parking lot, causing some damage to my bumper. I got the bumper repaired, with his insurance paying for it (and I was able to get the place doing it to also tint my windows). Then a week or two after that I was in a parking structure which had these red girders, and backing up with my tinted windows and the red of my lights, I couldn't see the girder. Backed up into it and caused a crease in my new bumper.

Lastly driving through topanga canyon on the way to culver city some idiot a few cars ahead of me stopped for no reason, just in front of a rather blind turn. I came around the turn and slammed on my brakes, but not soon enough not to bump the guy infront of me. Once again this guy was in a SUV and had barely any damage, while my car (a Saturn Ion Coupe) was fucked up.

Both actual accidents i've been in the people that i've hit have always been very nice about it (probably because i didn't do any damage to their cars, just mine).

My parents bought a slightly used car about 3 years ago. It's been hit and damaged 5 times since they bought it. Each time, the car was parked and no one was in it when it got hit. 3 times in a parking lot, one time in their driveway (my stepdad backed into it with their other car), and one time in our driveway (a branch fell and busted the driver's rear view mirror).

Craziest accident, four car pile up.

It was of course nasty, rainy, and cold.

I had to slam on my breaks because of congestion in a normally easily flowing street. Well, I managed to not hit the person stopped in front of me. The car behind me manages to barely stop too. But, the person behind her, wasn't paying attention or whatever and slams full force 40 miles an hour into the ladies car behind me. This causes her car to get crammed in under my Toyota 4 Runner. Which of course makes me bump but not crush the car in front of me.

I was there for a while because the two people behind me had to go to the hospital and have their cars towed. Fortunately my truck was built like a brick house and only suffered a destroyed rear bumper and minor damage to the front where the tow hook pushed into the car in front. Of course the driver in front tried to tell the officer it was my fault.

After all the stories were collected it was apparent the driver in the last car was to blame. The guy didn't have insurance and at the time I still had to pay the deductible for this kind of accident even though it wasn't my fault.

What a mess. Even though it's been several years, I still freak out if I have to jam the breaks too fast and someone slides up close behind me in busy traffic.

I've had a few close calls, but my stupidest moment was pulling out drunk from a parking lot. I managed to back out in a fairly crowded parking garage and was turning too quickly when I noticed that the left side of my front bumper was dragging along a car in the spot to my left. It was a pretty tight space and I had a big car, so I panicked and barely managed to back out with no one seeing what happened.

I once got my dad's '73 corvette up to 125 on the 91 Freeway. Ahh, to be 16 and immortal.

Saw someone doing that on a city street. An old lady was backing out, no more old lady.

I don't street race. I used to think it was fun till I saw that happen.

See, that's what happens as we age. We become aware of things like consequences.

I'm 24 and I've been behind the wheel of a car maybe five times. When your friends see you crash ATVs on a fairly regular basis (including backending one of your coworkers' cars), it makes them reticent to teach you how to drive. That'sr all I got. I just wanted to join in the gazing of navels.

My biggest fuckup ever...

About maybe a year after I got my license I got into a bad wreck.

I was coming home from the set of We Are Marshall. My friend and I had spent the last three days as extras in one of the stadium sequences (I dunno, I still haven't seen the movie, so I don't know where we are). 14 hour days in 110º heat for three days = me fucked.

I'm digging around for I-75, when I realize that I need to turn around. I'm doing maybe 25 or 30 down the road and I spot a parking lot to turn around in. I'm fucked, as I mentioned before, so for some reason I think it's viable to make a nearly 90º turn into this lot. I check my mirror and nothing is there (I'm in a Mercury Mountaineer [bigfuck SUV]) so I jerk the turn and about a second later, my backend jumps up, I scream "Oh Fuck!", and we spin 180º - jerking as we slide over a concrete-filled steel pole.

My friend was on the phone with his Mom in the passenger seat when this happened. So she heard, "Oh Fuck!".... Click.

I get out and see this black little Honda-type car that looks like an Agent just stomped it's front end whilst leaping to another car. Two large black women get out of the car and collapse onto the sidewalk, screaming, "Lordy Lordy Lordy!" (True.)

I nearly collapse with panic and start to weep and shake because I honestly think that I've killed someone at this point. I also realize that I'm in the middle of an Atlanta hood. Within 25 seconds, the scene is swarmed with about 15 local folk that seemed to emerge like chameleons from the sides of buildings and such. I'm fucking freaking out at this point. My friend is silent.

Fortunately almost all of the people that swarmed around were very nice and tried to make me feel better. Only one wanted to start shit but they made him go away. Eventually the cops show up, the parents, etc. etc....

I don't think I totaled their car but the front end was pretty smashed. To give you an idea, their hood was crumpled and peeled, but their headlights were perfectly fine - I had just rolled over the top. Everyone was fine, one went away in an ambulance because her wrist hurt, but that was it.

My car would have been absolutely fine had that concrete-filled steel pole not been there. We ended up slamming into it on the side, pulling it out of the ground, and ending up on top of it. As it happened, it smashed in the rear quarter panel and fucked up the wheel mount some.

That experience fucked me up with driving for a long time, and is still a terrible memory. I still thank the cosmos that I didn't fuck up worse. I've never had any problems since, and I'm actually probably a better more defensive driver because of that scare so early in my driving experience.

Here's the pictures for those that deal in "the facebooks" - My Car. The other Car.

Feel better Savage?!

Since I've been driving my current car (a 1993 Audi 80) this is the damage total thus far.

A girl learning how to drive stick let her Mini Cooper roll back into my front end causing body damage, fog light being busted and the hood being kind a douche to open up now.

Rear ended a guy going 10 mph who had a tow bar hooked up to his car which formed a nice O shape dent into my license plate which was knocked off and then subsequently ran over by 2 cars.

My car rolled out of my parking spot at work, completed TWO perfect left turns only to follow the rules of the road (an ambulance radio'ed in how the drivers gave the Audi the right of way), and come to a stop at a four way intersection right behind the thick white line. Honestly, this baffled everyone. The night before I caught Transformers and now my ride somehow executed two turns by itself--it even avoided the curb that would've stopped it's momentum!. If it didn't make those turns it would've backed up into another parking lot and buried it's rear end into a BMW. It's almost magical.

One afternoon I was napping on my couch to be woken up by my neighbor. She asked me where I was, I answered "on my couch sleeping". She followed up with "Your car is in the neigbhor's yard." I was completely shocked and somewhat amazed that I've transcended from even needing to be in my car for it to be involved in an accident. No damage to my car, but Audi Power did rock the shit out of the guys fence and ran over a utility box causing about 1000 dollars worth of damage.

Oh, the E-brake was on in both instances.

I picture Frank wearing a cardigan, sitting by a fireplace, smoking a pipe, with several little kids gathered at his feet.

Sounding strangely like Bing Crosby. At least in my mind.

But without the child abuse.

I never had any icidents that were a result of my stupidity, but on two occasions I had seizures while driving. The first time I ended up in a ditch not remembering how I got there (I was alone), and the second time I ran a red light and t-boned some car. That was the end of my 88 Grand Marquis, which I mourn to this day.

I've had some really weird close calls though. I've been run off the road by 18 wheelers a couple times. I once saw a big tanker crash and destroy a highway bridge. I saw the driver of a pickup lose control, which resulted in the pickup doing a Michael Bay style crash, flipping and spinning.

And when I was driving around LA last year, I felt like I was on the edge of disaster the entire time. Alabama traffic did nothing to prepare me for the madness of LA. I did appreciate how most folks used their signals, though. That's a rare sight around here.

You're prone to seizures and you're driving a car?

Well, the first time, everybody, including myself, thought I was just an idiot, and not that I had a seizure. The second time, which happened a year later, my brother was in the passenger seat, and he noticed that I suddenly stopped talking and moving pretty suddenly before the wreck. So some doctors plugged some shit into my head and decided I have epilepsy. Now I'm on medication and don't have seizures.

I used to have a little Fiat--the kind of boxy little car that Inspector Clouseau drives. One day, I was driving home from college, heading down a long incline. Two lane highway. I see a semi coming toward me in my lane, trying to pass another truck on the way up the hill. By the time they spot me, neither one can give way to the other. I veered off the road to avoid the truck in my lane, started to skid on the gravel shoulder, and popped up into the air when I tried to steer back onto the highway. I flipped over three times and finally came to a stop with my front wheels on one side of a dranage ditch and my rear wheels on the other.

Oh, and I didn't have my seat belt on (don't try this one, kids!). I grabbed onto the steering wheel so hard that I broke a couple of ribs. I opened up my door and dropped down into the ditch. All the wind was knocked out of me, and I thought that I was going to die from some terrible internal injuries. By the time I walked up to the highway (after going back to turn off my radio for some reason), I was feeling OK.

A carload of nursing students stopped by and rendered first aid, delivering an enormous amount of sympathy too. I wound up getting a phone number from the cutest one. And my car? A guy at a nearby garage banged out the dent in my roof and I had to replace my windshield. Not bad.

Crashed into a couple on their way to the prom. And they ended up trying to calm me down.

Nothing big on my front actually. The first happened four days after I got my first brand new car, a 2001 civic. Just a little ice but I managed to stop just fine but then the car behind me (who was politely tailgating) hit me then the car behind them hit them and conversely making the first car hit me again. The damage was minimal but still, four freaking days after I got my car!

The only other accident of note was actually a few years before the above story. My friend and I went out at about midnight to a fast food place to get some grub. The street I was on was big, three lanes on each side but as luck would have it, I was in the right lane and there was a car right next to me in the middle lane. Some fuckhead lose thought it would be funny to move one of those parking pylons (you know the long rectangle cement ones they put at the end of parking spaces to make you stop, about 5 feet long, 5 inches high) in the right lane. Well I did my own little Dukes off Hazard and jumped that thing. At first I thought the car was all right and after inspecting the wheels it looked good. I got about 5 minutes from there and saw sparks coming out of my car from the rear view mirror. I pulled over, turns out that all four tires were now flat and all four rims were bent out of shape. I think my parents would have been all right with the damages (I was 17 or so at the time) except I was in their nice Acura with some nice rims, etc. Actually, they were ok with it but I certainly felt like shit but luckily they just needed four new tires/rims and a re-alignment.

Allow me to throw in a motorcycle story.

I got my Suzuki two years ago. I'd just completed the biker's class the month before and was chomping at the bit to get my wheels. Got the bike on a Friday. The first the wife says to me is to be careful and not do something stupid. Which naturally I ignored.

The next day, Saturday, was my first time taking a bike out anywhere for more than a half mile. Keep in mind the entirety of my experince was in a parking lot before that. So anyway, I decide to take the bike down to Santa Monica, no big deal. I take the Pacific Coast Highway (PCH) up to Topanga Canyon, which is one of those twisty kind of roads with the nice sheer dropoffs into ravines.

Luckily I didn't take a header into one of those, but I did completely misjudge a turn and dump the bike - the first day I took it out - into the only patch of water on the entire canyon road. $200 towing fee, a $300 repair fee, a nice case of road rash and an f-ed up shoulder later, I'm a hell of a lot more careful than I was on that day.

Well, the first day I had my learner's permit, my mom let me take her to the post office. At the time she drove an Acura Legend 4 door....a fairly large car, really long hood, kinda wide car too. Well, I got to the post office safely. and then pulling into the parking spot, I misjudged the curb in front of me, and in turn slammed on the gas, instead of the brake. I thought I was going to drive right through the front door of the post office. I felt like a fool.