Shit Happens
I hate it when-wait, let me rephrase that. Hate is a little harsh. I get so annoyed when people, looking you squarely in the eye, ask if you're "okay" after you tell them you've had a wreck. No, I died. No, I'm paralyzed. No, I suffered severe brain damage and have gone into a coma. WTF people, don't I look alright for someone who's just totaled her car? Maybe it's more of an emotional damage question than a physical. Whatever, I still think it's one of those "polite ignorance" things that people say to be courteous, but aren't really thinking of the implications and probably aren't too concerned with the actual answer.
So yes, my car was totaled yesterday when I was on my way to hang out with a friend. I was at what I thought to be a four-way stop because we have plenty in my neighborhood that resembled that one, so because of routine, I assumed that's what it was. Unfortunately, it wasn't. Thinking the opposite traffic would yield to me, I didn't even bother to look the other way. Next thing I knew, I was slamming into a huge White Ford F250 who couldn't even be bothered to watch where the fuck he was going. Yes, it turned out to be legally my fault and yes, I was cited. But could he not at all see my little blue hatchback over his huge white ass? Apparently not. He got out of his car all huffy, hitched up his pants and started lecturing me like he was my father. I, at the time, was too shaken up to be mad. I said,
"Are you okay?"
"You nearly totaled my truck!"
*No comment* Thinking: "Have you seen my Hundai, asswipe? It might as well have been a bug on your windshield!"
This is him: "What were you thinking? Were you text messaging? I mean, were you on your phone? Were you playing with the radio?"
Me, staring dead at my cell phone, trying to get my mom's number: "No, nope, no, no, no."
"Well, I hope you have insurance. I'll need to see your license and get your information."
Ironically enough, he didn't even have his insurance card on hand. He had to call the wifey to produce it.
Anyway, it sucked. My mom was awesome and never got mad. Later, the policeman asked both of us to go stand in the parking lot under an awning because it was raining. At this point I was bawling. The other guy looked over at me while we were waiting and said, "Are you okay?"
Thanks, but a little late, jerk.
The whole situation sucks cock, but the worst of it is I loved that car. I haven't heard the official word from the mechanics or whether or not my little car is kaputt, but it certainly doesn't look good. I'm preparing for the worst. It's a weird time right now since I don't have my own transportation and I don't know the official status of the car. I'm having to rely on other people for rides, sort of a homeless "don't-know-where-or-when-I'll-have-my-next-meal" sort of thing, and I don't know if I should be looking at the possibility of another car or awaiting the homecoming of my darling. I can say this much though, that was one winner of a car. It maneuvered like a dream, was gorgeous, felt like I was wearing it. Even to the bitter end that car stood up for me and took the hit itself. If that's not true love, I don't know what is.
So yes, my car was totaled yesterday when I was on my way to hang out with a friend. I was at what I thought to be a four-way stop because we have plenty in my neighborhood that resembled that one, so because of routine, I assumed that's what it was. Unfortunately, it wasn't. Thinking the opposite traffic would yield to me, I didn't even bother to look the other way. Next thing I knew, I was slamming into a huge White Ford F250 who couldn't even be bothered to watch where the fuck he was going. Yes, it turned out to be legally my fault and yes, I was cited. But could he not at all see my little blue hatchback over his huge white ass? Apparently not. He got out of his car all huffy, hitched up his pants and started lecturing me like he was my father. I, at the time, was too shaken up to be mad. I said,
"Are you okay?"
"You nearly totaled my truck!"
*No comment* Thinking: "Have you seen my Hundai, asswipe? It might as well have been a bug on your windshield!"
This is him: "What were you thinking? Were you text messaging? I mean, were you on your phone? Were you playing with the radio?"
Me, staring dead at my cell phone, trying to get my mom's number: "No, nope, no, no, no."
"Well, I hope you have insurance. I'll need to see your license and get your information."
Ironically enough, he didn't even have his insurance card on hand. He had to call the wifey to produce it.
Anyway, it sucked. My mom was awesome and never got mad. Later, the policeman asked both of us to go stand in the parking lot under an awning because it was raining. At this point I was bawling. The other guy looked over at me while we were waiting and said, "Are you okay?"
Thanks, but a little late, jerk.
The whole situation sucks cock, but the worst of it is I loved that car. I haven't heard the official word from the mechanics or whether or not my little car is kaputt, but it certainly doesn't look good. I'm preparing for the worst. It's a weird time right now since I don't have my own transportation and I don't know the official status of the car. I'm having to rely on other people for rides, sort of a homeless "don't-know-where-or-when-I'll-have-my-next-meal" sort of thing, and I don't know if I should be looking at the possibility of another car or awaiting the homecoming of my darling. I can say this much though, that was one winner of a car. It maneuvered like a dream, was gorgeous, felt like I was wearing it. Even to the bitter end that car stood up for me and took the hit itself. If that's not true love, I don't know what is.