"I couldn't see you coming" is not an excuse
It started this morning when the alarm went off. I had the ugh feeling (and I never have the ugh feeling). You know the feeling- where it is exhausting to even just listen to the story on public radio that wakes you up, where the thought of taking a shower is extremely undesirable because you have to hold your arms above your head for a whole 30 seconds to lather your hair, where your cereal seems to take forever to crunch through.
With no choice to stay in bed, I got out, reluctantly. By the time I was done drying my hair and trying (trying would be the key word) to pick out my clothes I had accepted the fact that it was already a bad day. I told this to husband, to which he said, "I know" and gave me a hug. I was just congratulating myself on at least getting the whole bus ride to read the New York Times when I realized I had to drive today. I never drive, but we had a scheduling conflict and I wasn't going to skip yoga. I complained to husband, "I don't want to drive today".
I was pouting on my way out the door about my bag being too full and it not closing and it being cold outside and it being gray outside. Husband gave more hugs and I slowly moved toward the garage.
As I was driving down the alley, I could see a parked SUV to my right. Then before I knew it, from behind that SUV came another large SUV pulling out of his drive way, right at me, in the middle of the alley. I swerved to the left to avoid him. Except oops, it's winter, the narrow alley is covered in snow, and I do not have snow tires on yet. In a whirling of anti-lock brakes and snow slipping I drove straight... into... the... corner... of... a.... stuccoed... garage.
After the horrible crunch and the realization that I was up close and personal with the garage wall, I started to hear the hissing that denotes all car accidents in the movies. Yep, unnaturally green stuff on the ground. A broken, hissing radiator. check, check.
Did I mention the ugh feeling? the bad day feeling? the not wanting to drive feeling? Yeah, it had just gotten a lot stronger.
As I stepped out of my car and saw the guy who had pulled out in front of me, I refrained from screaming and simply called Jff. "Don't worry, I am not far from home--Just about eight houses down the alley snuggling with a garage. Come soon. on foot."
I did get a little testy once the 24 year old had the guts to say something like, "well, I gotta go to work." I got a little more frustrated when I realized he had backed his car up after I hit the garage so as to appear that he and his Jeep had never been in the alley. Then when I suggested calling the police, he said, "well, that's only if you have over $500 dollars worth of damage". At that point, I was no longer gentle. I think I informed him that there was considerably more damage than that and that he should probably sit tight with a not so nice edge to my voice. (husband can probably attest to this).
So the police came, told me that I was probably driving too fast down the alley, told the guy that he had caused the accident by pulling out in front of me (to which he responded that he hadn't been able to see around the other SUV to see me coming) and left me to confess to the neighbors that I had crashed into their garage.
In the end, the guy's car is fine, the garage is fine, my car is not. Tomorrow it will go to the car hospital, and thankfully I will not be going anywhere near garages or cars except for when the tow truck comes to take mine away. Then I will go back to bed.
With no choice to stay in bed, I got out, reluctantly. By the time I was done drying my hair and trying (trying would be the key word) to pick out my clothes I had accepted the fact that it was already a bad day. I told this to husband, to which he said, "I know" and gave me a hug. I was just congratulating myself on at least getting the whole bus ride to read the New York Times when I realized I had to drive today. I never drive, but we had a scheduling conflict and I wasn't going to skip yoga. I complained to husband, "I don't want to drive today".
I was pouting on my way out the door about my bag being too full and it not closing and it being cold outside and it being gray outside. Husband gave more hugs and I slowly moved toward the garage.
As I was driving down the alley, I could see a parked SUV to my right. Then before I knew it, from behind that SUV came another large SUV pulling out of his drive way, right at me, in the middle of the alley. I swerved to the left to avoid him. Except oops, it's winter, the narrow alley is covered in snow, and I do not have snow tires on yet. In a whirling of anti-lock brakes and snow slipping I drove straight... into... the... corner... of... a.... stuccoed... garage.
After the horrible crunch and the realization that I was up close and personal with the garage wall, I started to hear the hissing that denotes all car accidents in the movies. Yep, unnaturally green stuff on the ground. A broken, hissing radiator. check, check.
Did I mention the ugh feeling? the bad day feeling? the not wanting to drive feeling? Yeah, it had just gotten a lot stronger.
As I stepped out of my car and saw the guy who had pulled out in front of me, I refrained from screaming and simply called Jff. "Don't worry, I am not far from home--Just about eight houses down the alley snuggling with a garage. Come soon. on foot."
I did get a little testy once the 24 year old had the guts to say something like, "well, I gotta go to work." I got a little more frustrated when I realized he had backed his car up after I hit the garage so as to appear that he and his Jeep had never been in the alley. Then when I suggested calling the police, he said, "well, that's only if you have over $500 dollars worth of damage". At that point, I was no longer gentle. I think I informed him that there was considerably more damage than that and that he should probably sit tight with a not so nice edge to my voice. (husband can probably attest to this).
So the police came, told me that I was probably driving too fast down the alley, told the guy that he had caused the accident by pulling out in front of me (to which he responded that he hadn't been able to see around the other SUV to see me coming) and left me to confess to the neighbors that I had crashed into their garage.
In the end, the guy's car is fine, the garage is fine, my car is not. Tomorrow it will go to the car hospital, and thankfully I will not be going anywhere near garages or cars except for when the tow truck comes to take mine away. Then I will go back to bed.
Caption: Garage 1, Honda 0
posted by KLOU | 6:05 PM
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