Why I Do Not Heart New Jersey (Reprise)

I previously had taken down this post from last July because I was pursuing a lawsuit last summer about my accident while changing a tire. Well, I apparently don't have much of a case since it's too ambiguous about how much of the accident was caused by my own misuse of the jack. In any event, since a lawsuit and my life as a personal injury millionnaire beneficiary is no longer in the works, I'm reposting my account because so many of my faithful readers didn't get to read my version what happened.

I'll be posting a new post soon. I've been suffering from strep throat for the past 6 days. Ugh.

Why I Do Not Heart New Jersey

So I broke my arm about 5 weeks ago and it sucks. It was a pretty horrible accident. I was driving down to Philadelphia and got a flat tire. It was around 9:00 at night and I was stuck between Exits 13 & 14 on the NJ Turnpike. I got out of the car and could smell the burnt rubber. I immediately called Roadside Assistance and was informed that they would not be able to come to me because the NJ State Police does not allow outside towing or vehicle assistance companies to come on to the turnpike. Since I have changed tires myself before, I decided to do the job myself. I was in a hurry to get to Philly and did not want to be stuck there all night.

So I dug out the jack and spare tire from the trunk and pump myself up for a nice manly hour of me vs. the tire. One of those rare moments when I’m doing something truly masculine. It's like I'm a cowboy coming back from branding cattle. I got the old tire off. I’m doing well, I thought to myself. I’ll be out of here in no time. Then as I was putting the new tire on, the jack buckled bringing the car down on to my arm crushing it between the wheel well and the new tire.

There I am with my arm stuck inside the car, sitting on the ground. Cars are whizzing past me. I can feel the shaking of my car and the vibration in the ground as cars sped past me on the highway. When I realized that no one was going to be able to see me, I started to feel really scared. I thought I was going to be there all night. Finally, I used all my strength to slowly pull my arm out. I was free.

At first, I thought I was fine. Just some bad bruises, my mind told me. I was about to get into the car and drive again. But then I look at my hand and realized it was hanging at an angle at which no hand ever normally hangs. I also realized I couldn’t make a grip to open the car door. Then the pain came, and I knew I had to call for help.

I sat in the car and called 911. The 911 dispatcher sent four cop cars and an ambulance to me. The police arrived first and as soon as they flashed their lights, traffic started to bottleneck. Normally, I would have taken great satisfaction in having an entire highway stop to wait for me, but I was in too much pain. The first officer opened the door and asked me what happened. He then shined his flashlight on my arm. My arm had now developed a huge swelling mass, as if a tennis ball was lodged under my skin. The ambulance couldn’t come soon enough.

While I was waiting for the ambulance, the officers started to ask me for my name, age and other pertinent information. One asked for my ID and I said it was in my wallet in my back pocket. In a very cute way, because he was obviously embarrassed, he reached behind me and pulled my wallet out. If it was any other circumstance, I would have tried to smile at him, but now was not the time.

Nor was it the time for me to act as a salesman for Toyota. I was driving the electric/gas hybrid Toyota Prius car. The car’s pretty unique inside. All sorts of bar graphs and pie charts are flashing on the screen inside and even turning on the car is different from a normal car. Well, the guys from the police were understandably fascinated with my car and I answered all of their questions through clenched teeth. I didn’t mind too much though because it did take my mind off the pain a bit. By that time, the ambulance had arrived and I was helped out of my car and into the ambulance. As the ambulance back doors closed, the last question the police asked me was “Hey, How do you turn this car on?”

I have lots of more stories to tell about my broken arm, and I’m sure they’ll be the subject of more posts later. But the point of this post is to declare “I Do Not Heart NJ”. I’ve always disliked Jersey. Driving through it is a pain because you can’t make a left turn anywhere. You’re like trapped on roads because of the barrier in the middle. Also NJ has the most idiotic, cheap and amateurish politicians ever. I don’t know where they come from. I guess NJ. Now, I’m not going to say any comments about people from NJ because I do have many friends from NJ. But to my NJ friends, I’m sorry, NJ is cursed in my book (or more likely, it just doesn’t like me, which is fine with me).

For more on the suckiness of New Jersey, go here.