Cars
I parked my car as usual. Not in the first spot I saw, down the road a bit, but in a central location, two doors down from the Wit's End. I was right in front of Persimmon, the upscale restaurant, and I wondered what they had on their menu. Step out of the car, walk around and lean over to look at the menu--entrees for $17. I could afford that. Maybe I'll invite Lisa here for dinner. BAM! A car crash. I turned around and there's my car, on the sidewalk with me. Green Subaru under my red back bumper. Little white Honda connected to the Subaru. Collapsed door on the truck parked behind me. Four cars total. The restaurant staff rushed out, "Oh my god, are you ok? You were standing right here!" "I'm ok but my car's not."
A week later the old man's insurance company (reluctantly) accepted liability and deemed my car a total loss. I went to look at it two more times. From the driver's side you couldn't even tell it had been in an accident. But the trunk no longer closed completely and the passenger side rear wheel was horizontal. Literally. I took out my books and CDs and the tire iron my dad gave me. He painted one end gold in case I ever had a flat. The last time I saw the car, I removed the GA tags and found some loose change in the ash tray. Before we left I had my roommate take a picture of me with it.
So long car. It was nice knowing you.
It feels silly now but for two weeks after the accident I was a wreck. Daily phone negotiations with heartless insurance agents, the mundane realities of re-learning my routines. Bus schedules and missed yoga classes. What should I do to replace the car? Add to the insurance money and look for another used one? Buy a motor scooter that can go on highways? Where would I go to find these cars for sale and how much time will it take to get there by bus? What if I buy one that's a rip-off? Can I go out dancing at night without my own wheels? Will I ever see Quentin and Ryan now? I was the friend with a car before. Now what do we do? If only I had parked at that first spot I saw, down the road a bit! Man, I hope this insurance agent isn't ripping me off.
So manic and cynical and bitter. I remind myself of my father.
Then I was at work late, wasting time before I got on a bus for my final Wedgewood yoga class. Reading up on LJ for the first time in weeks, I found out about andypop's accident. Andypop has been on my friendslist for about three years now. He made comments that were loving and insightful and even though I never met him in real life, I knew that if I did, I would love him. He was forty-two years old, a musician, a cartoonist, a father, a feminist, anti-racist activist. He skipped undergrad all together and went into a master's program with Lynne Segal when he was forty. He was a cool guy. He was hit by a motorcycle when he walked out of a club in London one night. Jinxremoving and jinty have written about it in their journals. They knew him better than I.
So, here's my reality check. And it makes me feel self-centered and unworthy. Maybe my car was protecting me when it was hit by that Subaru. Maybe I should be thankful that it was hit and not me. And I should get over myself and be happy. Or at least start preparing. My Saturn Return is near, within the next week. I'm gonna beat the rest of you to it--crossing over.
A week later the old man's insurance company (reluctantly) accepted liability and deemed my car a total loss. I went to look at it two more times. From the driver's side you couldn't even tell it had been in an accident. But the trunk no longer closed completely and the passenger side rear wheel was horizontal. Literally. I took out my books and CDs and the tire iron my dad gave me. He painted one end gold in case I ever had a flat. The last time I saw the car, I removed the GA tags and found some loose change in the ash tray. Before we left I had my roommate take a picture of me with it.
So long car. It was nice knowing you.
It feels silly now but for two weeks after the accident I was a wreck. Daily phone negotiations with heartless insurance agents, the mundane realities of re-learning my routines. Bus schedules and missed yoga classes. What should I do to replace the car? Add to the insurance money and look for another used one? Buy a motor scooter that can go on highways? Where would I go to find these cars for sale and how much time will it take to get there by bus? What if I buy one that's a rip-off? Can I go out dancing at night without my own wheels? Will I ever see Quentin and Ryan now? I was the friend with a car before. Now what do we do? If only I had parked at that first spot I saw, down the road a bit! Man, I hope this insurance agent isn't ripping me off.
So manic and cynical and bitter. I remind myself of my father.
Then I was at work late, wasting time before I got on a bus for my final Wedgewood yoga class. Reading up on LJ for the first time in weeks, I found out about andypop's accident. Andypop has been on my friendslist for about three years now. He made comments that were loving and insightful and even though I never met him in real life, I knew that if I did, I would love him. He was forty-two years old, a musician, a cartoonist, a father, a feminist, anti-racist activist. He skipped undergrad all together and went into a master's program with Lynne Segal when he was forty. He was a cool guy. He was hit by a motorcycle when he walked out of a club in London one night. Jinxremoving and jinty have written about it in their journals. They knew him better than I.
So, here's my reality check. And it makes me feel self-centered and unworthy. Maybe my car was protecting me when it was hit by that Subaru. Maybe I should be thankful that it was hit and not me. And I should get over myself and be happy. Or at least start preparing. My Saturn Return is near, within the next week. I'm gonna beat the rest of you to it--crossing over.