After I spun out and crashed next to a cop who had been dealing with someone who maybe had the same problem I did but didn't seem interesting in dealing with me, I drove off, and soon found out the car was not for driving. That when I spun into a star shape and crashed into a telephone pole, completely crunching the front driver's side. The next thing I remember was being outside of the car reaching in around the airbag to get the keys out and then falling over. My dad drove by (because I'd been picking up the car from the shop, and he'd been circling since he saw the first accident) and picked me up, since I'd crashed next to a pair of railroad tracks, which is not a cool place to wait for Triple A, especially since today was a day that people liked crashing into things, but he didn't go look at the car and thought it wasn't so bad, until I told him the airbags had gone off (as much as I could talk, being temporarily transformed into a sobbing snotmonster). Triple A told we didn't have to call the cops, which was wrong, which I found out when the cops called the house.
When my dad went back he saw how bad it was. The truck there told him that the cops were looking for us. Good deal. They didn't give us a ticket on account of the multiple accidents that day.
Dingo came home and I didn't tell him what happened until he asked. He said he wasn't going to tell anyone, but I said I didn't mind. Not many people can crash a car twice in fifteen minutes, I said.