So I'm driving to work today, and I make a left out of my apartment complex into BLINDING SUNLIGHT. Like, I cannot see anything except blinding white light. I immediately assume I'm dying and NOT going to hell as previously suspected...but then I hear no angels nor does my deceased Nanny show up with a cigarette and some lipstick so I don't meet Jesus looking all meshugina. SO, the assumption is that because of the amazing combination of the height of my car and my own elf-like proportions the sun is beaming directly into my line of sight. I slow to about 1MPH and put on my turn signal to pull off the road because I seriously am a danger to myself. Someone begins honking at me, so I accelerate to about 10 miles per hour...and promptly slam into a pick-up truck hitched to a trailer. Yes folks. Another car accident. Caused by nothing other than God's joy at fucking with me. No, I am permitted to keep all my limbs and be free of debilitating diseases-but every little, annoying, pain in the ass type of thing that can go wrong always does. And of course the guy I hit is a RAGING ASSHOLE who doesn't want to call the police. And I'm like, dude, it's my fault and I'm going to call the police. So he hangs out. And by asshole, I don't necessarily mean rude, I mean totally uneducated and stupid. He begins insisting (in marginally understandable English, even though he is CLEARLY American) that I have damaged his equipment that was in the trailer. The equipment is a)protected by a heavy wooden board that is untouched b)cement mixers, metal things with spikes and other massive objects used for turning up dirt. I'm like, sir? You see that I drive a Honda Civic right? Not a Hummer. So, he's totally one of those people that sees this as an opportunity to blame someone for 15 years of dents, dings, and scratches on his car. So, I anticipate a huge problem here. But I ain't scared. I know people who know people. BUT, it gets better. I call my insurance agent to give her the head's up. I say "thank goodness we changed back to the 500 dollar deductible yesterday!". And she's all..."um, that hasn't gone through yet. You still have $1,000 deductible."
So I call husband, sobbing. And I'm apologizing profusely because now we have to dip into our down payment savings and I'm always yelling at him for making stupid mistakes, but at least his stupid mistakes don't cost money, even though they mentally try me, at least I don't have to open my wallet....on and on I go. And poor, good husband just coddles me and tells me to be grateful everyone is alright.
Naturally, Deronte The Civic of Style is SO PISSED off at me right now. First, he hid my insurance card and NOW he's put the air freshener into overdrive so I got a migraine. He is so childish. I mean, Deronte, it's merely cosmetic. I told him that he could use this opportunity for BoTox, but that did not seem to placate him. He says I "killed his game with the ladies." Please. As if a SEDAN has any game!