April 30, 2001
The Mother Lode of Road Kill... Me!
by stacy <firstname.lastname@example.org>
I travelled more than 800 miles round-trip this weekend to attend a family reunion. We had to drive across a couple of states to get there, and I knew there would be a lot of people at the reunion I hadn't seen in years. As it turned out there were people there I had never met before at all, and not just kids whose parents I hadn't seen since before they were born.
It was a nice weekend. The biggest problem I had on the road during the trip up was that I nearly hit a turtle on the interstate. We found the hotel, met up with some familiar family members almost immediately, and had a good time playing cards and Monopoly. And just visiting, of course. The problem came on the second day.
We slept a little later than everyone else. I guess the rest of my family thinks sleeping til 9:30 on a vacation Saturday is just wasting time. We went to eat breakfast, and then found the "family room" in the hotel. I was looking for my parents, and I was told they had gone to a particular store. So we went to that store to look for them. We ran into my brother, my cousins, a couple of uncles, and various other people, but not mom and dad. I was eventually told they had left. OK. So we left too, and went to look for a carwash, which I was badly in need of after 100 insects committed suicide on the front of the car. So off we went.
After going straight through a dozen lights or so, I spotted a full-service carwash on the right side of the road. Perfect. I pulled into the driveway of the carwash/Jiffy Lube and the entrance lane of the carwash. At some point, my passenger yelled, "Stop!" and reached across me for the horn. I was confused by what he was doing and slammed on the brakes, but somewhere in the midst of all this, I felt and heard something hit me on the right side. A car was backing out of parking space and ran right into the passenger side of my car! I screamed something and sort of went into shock. This had never happened to me before. I got out to look and just felt anguish at seeing the dents and paint scraping off my beautiful automobile. My beautiful 2001 model automobile. The guy who hit me was shaking his head and apologizing (his car was a pretty nice Camaro), and it took me a minute to clear my head to start figuring out what I should do.
I guess I snapped out of it at some point and was able to drive to the police station to file a report. I was sort of embarrassed to be driving a car that had obviously been hit, and I wanted it fixed ASAP. I still want it fixed ASAP, but waiting on the insurance company to do their thing. This sucks. Somebody told me I've got too much of an emotional attachment to my car, but I didn't know it before this happened. I'm paying too much on a car that I really like to have it messed up with less than 6000 miles on it. It's very sad, and they better make it look like new or I might have to get ugly.
Published: April 30, 2001