Tortfeasor as victim

by Lawrence Kaplan My friend Irv is a ridiculously careful driver. His wife and children nag him about speeding up to make the next light. When he drives only the speed limit (always), drivers behind honk, flash their lights, finally pass him screaming obscenities and resorting to sign language. Irv gets good driver discounts, never got a ticket, and, g-d forbid, certainly never had an accident. Irv drove me home on a rainy and moonless night with his usual caution, crawling his way down poorly lit streets with parked cars lining both sides of the roads. As my friend passed an illegally parked truck, the man in the black raincoat, an intoxicated father of two, hidden in the darkness, staggered into the path of our car. The collision destroyed the body in the raincoat and the spirit of my friend; One mangled on the outside, the other hollowed on the