Friday night, I was celebrating the end of a very long month and a half of work by going to an outdoor concert downtown with some friends, then grabbing a po-boy with a few of the girls. We hung out for several hours, catching up on all the things we'd missed out on for the last 6 weeks, and I was actually starting to feel relaxed and pretty good about life.
As I was driving home, I noticed a guy driving erractically behind me on Perkins Road. I turned onto Myrtledale and was on that street for only a few feet when he slammed into the back of my car. I don't think he ever stopped -- just kept going. I was totally in shock. It happened so fast that I didn't get his license plate at all, but he was in a small-ish car (I'm thinking Honda) and was wearing a baseball cap.
My car is not undriveable by any means, and I am not hurt. The rear driver's door and trunk cannot be opened (because I'm afraid I won't be able to close them), but the damage could have been much worse -- to people and to the car.
I am very thankful that it wasn't as bad as it could have been. But I was totally shaken up, and for about 12 hours after it happened, couldn't stop wondering why weird always finds me. (Those of you who know me well realize that unfortunately, I am NOT exaggerating.)
I have an appointment with my insurance company tomorrow morning, and will have a rental car for the next 7 days (or however long it takes to fix my car).
When you look at the pictures I post here, you'll probably think I'm freaking out for nothing. I do think, though, that the main part of this was the shock factor of being randomly rammed by someone whose car had to have a fair amount of damage itself, since his car was small-ish.
It was just weird.
good gravy. your guardian angel must have been on your shoulder.
ReplyDeleteGood gravy. Your guardian angel must have been on your shoulder.
ReplyDeleteOoh, know that feeling. I was hit and run when I was fifteen! Glad you're ok.
ReplyDeleteSo glad you're okay. Smells like someone who'd had too much at happy hour, and knew he'd be toast if he stopped. Jerk.
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