I’m a rockstar… without the bad hair and questionable outfits. I go out, a lot. Last night was no exception. This particular evening I was invited to a little soiree by a good friend. It was a lovely time. There was no pants-dropping or craziness, like last weekend’s shenanigans, and it was a nice change from the usual ridiculosity that I seem to find myself privy to on a regular basis. I left my friend’s place at a decent time, slightly before midnight, and was less than a mile from my house when this Jetta-driving, ugly pants-wearing (they do seem to go hand-in-hand) douchbag pulled out in front of me to make a left turn. I slammed on the brakes, but still ended up clipping the back end of his car.
Stop. Rewind. Here’s what should have happened. I should have stayed at my friend’s place and had some wine. As one of my good friends always says, “when in doubt, drink more.” I should have chatted up the guy she was trying to set me up with. Despite my lack of interest, I can still play a good game every now and then; I just wasn’t feeling it that night. I should have called up my crew to see what everybody was up to that night. No one likes a party pooper. I could have even used my superhero powers and somehow, some way, made it not happen. But, as they say, karma’s a bitch. I think this makes up for all of the speeding tickets I’ve gotten myself out of, all of the times I’ve inadvertently driven on 66 during HOV, and for preferring to drive to work instead of Metro for the past month or so. At least there were no paparazzi around…
Instead of doing the preferable and not having an accident, I went ahead and said, “what the hell,” and had one. Bravo. The dude who made the unfortunate mistake of being a complete dumbass when it comes to driving was actually quite pleasant. After the police report was taken care of and all of the information was exchanged, I managed to leave without feeling like I still needed to smack the little bastard. I am the queen of self-restraint… sometimes.
There’s nothing funny about a car accident, especially when it happens to you. There’ no hurt in trying though. You’ve all heard it from someone or experienced it first hand. Now, I have too. Instead of bitching about this and how much of a pain in the ass the insurance companies will be, I’m trying to refrain. My harrowing experience is not unique in the least bit, but life isn’t about the mundane occurences; it’s about how you react to them. I’m shooting for a thumbs up on this one.
