Wednesday, April 26, 2006

...but I was late to work.

Note: So this was delayed again, due to moving, traffic, finals, and freak blizzards in the middle of April. Now I'm trying to get this posted while I wait for Shallow Man to finish his last final (who schedules finals from 8-11 p.m., honestly?) and hoping I'll finish before my laptop battery dies, so this may not be as high-quality of a retelling as I'd hoped.

So I was driving to work early on morning about a month ago. The commute takes about an hour, meaning I have to get up at 5:30 to make it there by 7:00. This is a problem for a few reasons, as anybody who knows me can tell you:

1) I am not a morning person.
2) Morning hurts.
3) Whoever came up with the idea that the day should start any earlier than 9:00 a.m. should be shot.
4) Even then, my brain doesn't wake up until 10:00 a.m. at the earliest.

Combine this with the fact that I am genetically five minutes late at least and you can see that getting to work in the morning is a major challenge. (It's true, by the way -- I've been late all my life, starting with those extra 13 days before my birthday. My mom wasn't too happy about that.) Generally I end up leaving the house five minutes after I'm supposed to. When I leave on time, a fleet of semi-trucks and white Buicks descend upon me on the freeway and pen me in at 55 all the way. When I leave early, something drastic must occur.

Which is why I should have known something was going to happen when I was running early enough that I was 5 minutes away from work at 6:50 a.m. I was feeling pretty good, actually, and thinking to myself that I was going to be early, I'd be the first one there, they'd all walk in and there I'd be, wouldn't it be so cool, etc, etc, and so forth.

I was still paying attention to the road, though, because it was at that one spot where traffic is ridiculous and stops suddenly for no reason whatsoever. So when it stopped, I was able to do so as well, coming to a halt about a foot away from the car in front of me.

Unfortunately, the girl behind me had been trying to change lanes and was checking her blind spot when everyone stopped. So she didn't see until it was too late to do anything more than slam on the brakes so she wouldn't hit me at full speed.

She slammed into the back of me and pushed me into the car in front.

Long story short, it was about as good as it possibly could have been (if you'll forgive the obvious oxymoron of a "good car accident"). No airbags went off, nobody was hurt (other than a headache from residual adrenaline), all three cars were still driveable, nobody was a jerk, nobody had been doing anything wrong (I highly applaud checking your blind spots, actually; I've had several near misses when people around me didn't), everyone had insurance, and the car most easily repaired was the one with the most damage.

Yes, my poor sweet Sonya valiantly took the brunt of both impacts. She now needs two new bumpers (but no other damage, another good point), while the SUV in front had minor cosmetic damage and the Audi behind me had a bent grill and a headlight hanging out.

Of course, the poor 19-year-old behind me saw all of Sonya's other dents and thought she'd done a lot more to me. I tried to calm her down by pointing out which ones were already there, which was the majority. (The big dent in the back is another great story, but doesn't come into play here.)

I also pointed out to her that our license plate frame was even more appropriate now. That made her laugh.

That's about all I have time to post with the battery life I have. I know it's really anti-climactic after all that wait, but what can you do? I'll make a more exciting version later. It will probably be at least a week, though, as our new apartment doesn't have internet access yet. (Hence the feverish posting on no battery. My finally-delurking-faithful-readership-in-Texas would probably kill me via phone if I waited any longer.)

As some sort of compensation, here's some more blurry photographic evidence for your enjoyment.

More views of the damage:

Our front bumper, much less noticeable:

It was worse before my dad pushed the side of the bumper back in, but you can still see how it looks like a shark swimming up the side of my car:

The back bumper that is no more:

A final view:

Oh, by the way, this means our car has officially paid for itself now. But again, that's another story for another time...

1 comment:

Daring Young Dad said...

Phew! I'm glad it wasn't worse than it was.