The rest of Tuesday's poker was rather dull. I finished the day basically break even, and only played for about 90 minutes after busting Thunder with the mighty 69 suited. Then the "long and trying" part of the day hit me. Full force, at about 15 MPH. While I was stopped at the light on Saratoga Ave waiting to turn onto 280. Then I hit the Lexus in front of me. Then the car behind me hit me again, which is just incomprehensible if you think about it. The guy's foot was still on the gas! Then I hit the Lexus again, and finally the madness stopped.
My head was spinning a bit and I was pretty disoriented. The man from the Lexus (Ken) got out of his car and walked past me, already on the phone to cops, asking if I was OK. I told him I was alright and proceeded to let him handle the situation (he was in his 50s and dressed like a successful human) while I started trying to call Danielle to get our insurance policy number (we actually went back to a joint policy in early July and I didn't yet have a card in my car). He spoke to the idiot behind me (whose airbag was deployed), walked past me again on the way to his Lexus and said "She (911 lady I guess) says to stay put if there is more than $1000 worth of damage. What do you think?" I respond "He hit me pretty freaking hard....we should probably stay put." I hate it when people do this (blocking traffic when their cars run just fine), but now I guess I know why it happens. At this point I thought my entire trunk was going to be caved in, as I'd never been hit like that before and assumed that a collision that felt that rough must have done some serious damage. So we started sitting around, with the cops on the way. I tried to call Danielle again, and when I looked up from my phone, the Lexus was pulling away! I looked behind me; no car! What the fuck! OK, I guess I have to follow the Lexus. Ken is gesticulating wildly for the idiot to pull over, and after about half a mile he does so....only to pull back out after Ken pulls over behind him! I continue to give chase (we're not exactly flying here) and Ken eventually passes me. The dude eventually pulls into a gas station and Ken and I box him in cops style, with Ken's Lexus crosswise in front of him and my Corolla blocking any escape backwards.
I now get my first look at the idiot who hit me. And it ain't pretty. Dude has open sores all over his arms and face and is obviously stoned/loaded/wasted out of his mind. He can barely stand up. He's walking around, just kind of wandering aimlessly, with Ken on the phone to the cops giving our new location ("Yes, officer, we had to chase him here") when the guy says to me "Did I damage your vehicle?" Somehow I manage not to scream at him and respond merely with "What do you think?" while pointing at my rear bumper which is astonishingly ok but on which you can actually read the guy's license plate number. Eventually the cops show up and promptly throw his drunk ass in the back of their cruiser. Ken and I give statements and I get to my softball game about 40 minutes late, with details still pending the police "investigation" and my car apparently running just fine.