Getting there

Getting there

Wednesday, March 23, 2011

My Injured (p)Ride

When I saw the RCMP cruiser parked in front of my BMW I knew it couldn't be good. The irony that just yesterday I wrote about my love for my car didn't escape me when I noticed the pickup truck that was attached to my car's front bumper in an unhealthy way. Seems that when the lady parked next to me was leaving the parking lot she tried to take part of my car with her, and was only marginally successful.

I walked up to my car in a state of shock and dismay. The lady seemed reluctant to get out of her truck (understandably so - I wouldn't want to, either) and didn't get out until I had spoken to the officer and, aside from a few sniffles, hadn't made a scene. The officer was very kind and reassuring, very calm (after all, he sees much worse than dinged up bumpers, right?), and professional. I do believe I stole his pen after I wrote out my part of the report, though. Sorry officer - I was a bit beside myself. Hope you'll forgive the pen thievery.

I was pretty much okay, and even thanked the driver of the truck for calling the RCMP and reporting it - after all, she could have just driven away, like the person who hit my minivan in a parking lot did last year. The truck driver thanked me for being so understanding and while I might have been a bit short and snippy I really tried to not make her feel any worse even though I felt pretty miserable about it.

So, my ride is injured. My sweet husband has said he will deal with the insurance company when he gets home tonight, and I will try to pull myself together because it is, after all, just a car. I know insurance will fix it. I know it'll be fine. I know it wasn't my fault. My baby is in the garage where she is safe from further harm (although considering my luck I now fear roof cave-ins), and I'm considering a gin and tonic. Fishbowl size. Maybe fish tank size.

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