Phone Distraction: A Close Call

The breeze slid into the car from the moon roof in my friends’ dark green jeep. It brushed past my arms, leaving trails of goosebumps. My head bobbed to the side at times before I shot back up, trying hard not to fall asleep in the frustratingly slow traffic. Take me home to my couch, click, click, click. Nothing happened. Well it was worth a try, I thought slouching in the black seat and resting my head on the seat beside me. It was the chilly night after the 4th of July fireworks in a town near mine and my licensed friend Sloane was driving me and my other friend, Lily, home. I sat in the middle seat of the back row of the jeep so I could converse with my friends in the front. Me and Lily were chatting and laughing, but Sloane seemed preoccupied. The blue light of Sloane’s phone screen shone in my eyes only a little at first, as she was checking her phone to see what her dad was responding to her inquiry about a late night spikeball tournament. Since the traffic was unbearably slow, she wasn’t worried about crashing, she simply inched forward, stopped, and sent a quick text before inching forward again.

She got comfortable with the flow, maybe believing she had memorized the motion of the cars, and began looking at her phone for longer, not bothering to look at the road. The summer pop music was playing in the background, too loud for concentration. The blue light became a constant. Both hands and eyes on the phone as she sped forward into traffic, not noticing the car in front of us coming to a sudden stop, 20 feet, should I say something?, 15 feet, this isn’t safe, 10 feet, closer, closer. Her foot rested mindlessly on the gas as she was completely immersed in the argument on her phone. We are going way too fast “sloan” I said quickly trying to keep my voice level. “Yeah?” she said, not looking up, 5 feet. We need to stop right now. “sloan….SLOANE” She looked up abruptly and slammed on the brakes, sending us all forward into the front of the car before being jolted back by our seatbelts. We stopped just a half of a foot from the car.

Sloanes hands were frozen white on the wheel. Her eyes wide as the car in front continued its slow progression forward. We remained there silent as she followed the car in front. I was shocked. We had done driver’s ed together and we have heard the horror stories, we have talked down on reckless driving before, she knows it’s bad, right? She continued to pull her phone out to check her texts every so often for the rest of the drive. I did not want to be an annoying backseat driver, but every time she did I would remind her when she should slow down the car, or stop, or turn.

It is easy to drive mindlessly, easy to want to keep our hands and minds busy with other things. What is harder is to remember that lives are in your hands. Paying attention on the road is definitely much easier said than done, but not being alert and not acknowledging the weight and responsibility of holding that wheel has irreversible consequences. Being a passenger also comes with responsibility. Although people, like me, may be afraid to remind the driver to pay attention to the road for fear of being annoying, the difference those reminders can make could be paramount. The most important parts of driving aren’t always how far to stop from a crosswalk, how many seconds to wait at a stoplight, or how many inches from the curb you should be after parallel parking. Although those are crucial,It is usually the attention you give to the road, alertness and awareness of what is happening around you that holds the most importance.

The breeze was cooler now after a 30 minute drive home. The music had been turned down, and the blue light of her phone had been tucked away for a while at that point. After long minutes of silence with the occasional direction, I could see the change. The realization of the infinitesimal importance of what was happening on her phone to what was happening on the road.. She pulled up next to my house. “Thank you for the ride” I hopped out.