I didn't see my life flash before my eye. At least I can't recall if I did.
I wasn't even supposed to be NEAR a car. We had all gone out for a big night, and had safely returned. One of my flatmates had to get his car out and wanted a friends car moved. I volunteered and the stupid idjit didn't notice that I was 30 Wild Turkeys south of sobriety.
Not many images from that night, just when I caught the keys my hand and "Joy Ride!" popped into my head; the overwelming desire to know if the back of the road sign on the other side of the road had the same sign affixed to the back of it (), and the sub-millisecond attention span that saw me keep hold of the steering wheel as I turned my head and body to look
...
then I was back at home, and another flat mate asked me what happened, everyone else was out looking for me. The police turned up. They asked me if I had been driving. I asked my flatmate what I should say. He said the truth, so I said I had
...
Then I remember sitting in the police station and all these men standing around me,, and I was thinking "someone must have done something serious, they all seem pretty upset". )
I found out later someone from the local nightclub recognised me in the wreckage and pulled me clear. I then walked home.
No injuries: in fact I have had worse scars from trying to complete back flips in said nightclub when too drunk to make it, and my shins were cut by the edge of the podium on which I started the gymnastic man