So, a 73-year-old woman hit my car with her car yesterday. Really, really hard.
So hard, my bumper is about to fall off. In fact, if the bungee cords Mike so strategically placed on it weren’t there, it may very well have fallen off on my drive to work this morning.
She was a nice old lady, I suppose, but she was not making me feel too sorry for her by telling me all about the other accidents she’s been in.
I’m okay, but I am not enjoying driving today as much as I usually do. I guess it really doesn’t matter how cautious a driver is if there is the possibility some irresponsible driver will crash into you at an intersection when you are going through a green light.
And now, much like the old station wagon, my passenger side door won’t open. Sad thing is, my station wagon could’ve taken the beating like a champ. Ironically, the woman who hit me was driving a powder blue stationwagon made of metal, and her car was not nearly so damaged.
Mike’s bungee-cord magic.
Wiggly, jiggly headlight.
It doesn’t even look so bad like this. Imagine my shock when I got out of my car to see that my car’s jaw had been broken and was nearly touching the ground. Had I not been so disturbed it may have occurred to me to take some before and after pictures.
On an unrelated note, it is not wise to go to a soup kitchen wearing a nice button-up shirt, vest and slacks. It’s probably not a good idea to carry in a fake, but somewhat convincing, Coach purse, unless you want people to give you really dirty looks. Just because you are there to interview the high school football players volunteering there all summer until two-a-days start doesn’t mean the people eating there *can’t see you*.