Car Accident

I wasn’t kidding earlier. I was involved in a car accident – with a metro bus. And by involved in, I mean the victim of. Obviously. I used to think I needed a blog to document all of the weird things that happen to me. For a while there, it was constant. Then I started a blog, and it seemed as though the weirdness subsided. In reality, I think I just grew accustomed to it. But you guys, this one is for real. This is how it went down.

Don’t ask me what I’m doing, because I won’t be able to give you a very direct answer, but I’m always very busy. This Tuesday was no exception. Leaving an early morning yoga practice, I had a bazillion and one things to do. I had planned to see the Tim Burton exhibit at the LACMA and I was hosting a pumpkin carving that evening. With a million things left to prepare, I headed to Trader Joe’s. Prior to Tuesday, I used to think frequent trips to Trader Joe’s was certainly reason enough for a prescription of Xanax, but now I say just avoid these packed aisles and parking lots at all costs. 

Pulling out of the parking lot, I was stopped at a red light waiting to turn left. Minding my own business. When then, out of nowhere, I saw it. The giant blue metro bus, mistakenly thought he could squeeze by me and make a right turn. In slow motion, laying on my horn, I watched in horror as the bus scrapped along side me, slicing off my side mirror and clipping the entire front right bumper of my poor car.

In shock, I pulled to the side, behind the bus and exchanged information with the driver. He thanked me for being so nice and understanding. I asked how I was supposed to act in such a situation and he said sometimes when this happens, people are so mean he has to wait on the bus. Sometimes when this happens. As in it happens. Ridiculous. Anyway. The worst part was waiting. Get this, if I left before his supervisor came to evaluate the damage, it would have been considered a hit and run on my part. With my patience wearing thin, I called 911 to report the accident. They explained the procedure and I told me I would in fact have to wait for the supervisor. I explained I had prior engagements at the LACMA and a party to prepare for but they were less understanding. Then I started to cry. Shortly after, two sheriffs arrived and a report was filed. With no supervisor in sight, an hour and a half later, they took my statement and allowed me to go.

But don’t worry, you guys. I’m fine. I made it to Tim Burton, later than expected, but I made it. And I drowned my sorrows in cheap wine while my friends and I carved pumpkins later that night. My car is in the shop, but he’ll be okay too. And in the mean time, I’m driving a sweet gold Dodge Avenger. I know. I wish I was kidding, too. That's it on the left. Okay, so maybe mine doesn't have those rims. And it's gold. Maybe I’ll pose on the hood in a matching gold bikini and submit the photo to some kind of muscle car calendar. Or maybe not. But boy do I miss my little jetta.