I was jolted out of my sicko bed at ten to three by the sound of crashing metal and glass. I shot to a window upstairs and cracked open the drapes and miniblinds. A black automobile sat in one of the two lanes of my one-way street with its headlight pointing sideways below the window. Something the size of a basketball lay in the street near the curb.

I rushed down and grabbed on a jacket. Out on the sidewalk I ran into my neighbor, Matt, who was just coming up toward his house from the rear of his parked black F-150 pickup.

"She's drunk," he said. "Hit my truck on the rear corner."

He went to tell his wife who stood on their porch, hands on her hips.

I walked around the back of Matt's vehicle and could see the derelict car had really clobbered it. Ahead of the truck, nearly parallel with my house, a young girl stood leaning against the driver's door of the sedan and was speaking to whoever sat behind the wheel.

The driver was racing the engine. I walked there and asked what happened. Neither one spoke, and the driver was a younger girl, about 18 or 19. I could smell the beer.

"What are you racing the motor for?" I asked.

The one standing outside said, "She's just panicked. That's all, and the car won't move."

"You can't move a car after an accident," I said.

"He says we can't move it," she shouted down through the window.

By then I had my fill of stale beer odor and as I went over to talk to Matt, two of Tiffin's finest arrived in their white cruisers, light bars flashing red, white and blue.

Matt's wife was worried. She said they didn't have the five hundred dollar deductible to cover the repairs it would take. (The tailpipe was completely shoved out ninety degrees, the right corner of the truck was crumpled and the right rear tire was flattened. Just my curious look at it had rung up about a $2500 minimum claim.

I told her that deductible only applied to collision. It was the drunk girl's fault. She would have to pay. No deductible.

"But one look at that little piece of high school shit and we think she probably isn't insured," she said.

"Then she's in for a long jail sentence. That's illegal. You call your insurance people first thing in the morning. They will come out and assess your claim. If the girl doesn't have insurance your comprehensive or uninsured motorist coverage will take care of it. You only have to pay the deductible when it is your fault."

That seemed to settle her. Matt lit a cigarette and I went back inside. The cops had the two girls in the back of one of the police cars within minutes, the driver handcuffed. My cats were staring out the front windows at the spectacle of lights and sounds at three in the morning.

I started this thing up because with this awful cold and the activity I didn't think sleep would come easy. I'm considering pushing the button on the Krups and dripping a pot of java.

Parents: do you know where your kids are? I know that one in Tiffin will be spending a night and probably the day in a cell here in town. She's never going to see that car again, either. The tow truck just hauled it away to the impound. It will probably go from there to the junk yard from the front end damage I saw. And the girl will get an Ohio OVI charge, have to spit up about a $1200 fine, do time at Firelands to educate her about the dangers of underage drinking. She will also get the underage fine and probation. She won't be able to drive again for at least two years, if then. And when she finally can drive again, her insurance rates will be redlined to heaven's door.

I don't know what they do to drunk underage passengers these days. If I was the judge I'd nail her, too, for being a stupid teenager out for a drive at 3 a.m. with beer breath.

What a waste of shiny metal. What a way to live.

No wonder our insurance rates are so high. No wonder I can't sleep.

Forrest Gump was right. "Stupid is..."