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Friday, August 1, 2008

Humor is just another defense against the Universe.


Dave left yesterday for a bucket-list trip to hang out with his best friend Bud, meeting up on their motorcycles in Idaho to travel through Glacier, Yellowstone and Teton National Parks for the next 9 days. Nice. I plan to use this time apart as a retreat of sorts, do some creative cooking: (none), sleep past 4:45 a.m., etc., etc.

So, this morning I've driving my new little car which is being pulled by the gravity of unexplored garage sales when I see a car speeding up next to me in my rear view mirror. In a nano-second, the kind that you play over and over again in your head for days after an accident, I realize the driver doesn't see that I'm there and long story short, I moved over as far against the curb as possible but she still hooked my front bumper and ripped a big hole in it. Sheesh, the car isn't quite a month old, the first really new one we've had for about 20 years. You know the rest of the story: the police, insurance exchanges, mumbled halfhearted contrition and me shakily driving home.
The reason I bring this up is because of this:

. . .when we both pulled over to the side of the road to wait for the police, another car parked between us. We both looked over at a nicely coiffed older lady waiting patiently behind her wheel. A few minutes later she's still there so we decide she must have been a witness, no? We asked her if she saw the collision and she replied, "No. You mean I can go? I thought we were all stopped for a funeral that was coming by or something."

I quit!
But not before I get a new white bumper.

[thanks to Mary Englebreit's illustration and Mel Brooks' quote above]

3 comments:

Julie Schuler said...

O my goodness! I'm glad you're okay.

Judy said...

I just got a new van and have been worried about someone hitting me. Sorry to hear that happened to you, but I'm glad your Okay.

bobbie said...

So glad you pulled over as far as you could. Imagine what it could have been like. Glad you're OK.

I cannot imagine the lady who pulled over between you. Was she "all there"?