: more farewells and adioses :

We just did this, didn’t we? Damn, I hate repeating myself, but I have a new calamity: my car was totaled. I’m not joking. Not 24-hours after leaving my crummy job, we crashed with a capital C-R-A-S-H. The poor old clunker’s headed for the big parking lot in the sky.


Tell me; is there a target on my back? Seriously, whose crosshairs am I in? I literally have nothing left to lose here. Nothing. I’ve been picked clean.

My car is sitting in storage waiting for its fate to be sealed. The insurance company says there’s virtually no hope of repair. It’s simply a matter of gathering reports and photographing damage and signing documents. That’s what it always comes down to — legalities.

The adjuster told me to get everything out of it, including the license plates, because the car’s destined for a salvage yard. Okay, watch your mouth, Bub. That’s my car. It wasn’t salvage or junk, it was a refuge. It was freedom. And it was seven payments short of being paid off. That’s what really chaps my ass. I was this close, thi-i-i-s close to no car payments. Now? Square one.

Fortunately, no one was seriously hurt and the accident wasn’t my fault. I was just there, doing 40 or thereabouts, when a dude flew out in front of me. Actually, he was motioned into traffic by some clown who fled the scene. I had, tops, thirty feet to stop. On wet pavement. Needless to say, I couldn’t. I hit him like a train.

So, for a brief time, mine was the life of a pinball; I ricocheted from pillar to post. My noggin made a beeline for the rearview mirror, my knees headed for the dashboard, other stuff went for the steering wheel and the gear shift. Outside, metal shrieked, the headlights exploded in splinters, and car parts skidded on the road. It was straight out of the Bourne Supremacy, minus the tunnel.brussels sprout_trimmedBeing a temptress of fate, I wasn’t wearing a seatbelt and my airbag didn’t deploy. The other guy’s did, but mine? No. So I have two knees the size and color of eggplants, bruised shoulders, and a knot on my head like a Brussels sprout. (Do I have a vitamin deficiency or something, what’s with the vegetable references?) The other guy was okay; he didn’t limp or swell.

Two kind witnesses stuck around until police arrived — 40 cold, wet minutes later. They stood in rainy, windy, 35º weather and did their level best to distract me with small talk and reassuring smiles when they could have been warm and dry in their own cars, on their way to wherever they’d been going. People like that deserve more than thanks. If I knew last names I’d send gift cards. Or a bag of $10s.

In the end, I was ticketed for not wearing a seatbelt. I asked the cop how in the world he could know that and he pointed at the rearview mirror. It was webbed with cracks and a tuft of my hair. D’oh. If I’d pulled the hair out I could’ve saved $60. The broken mirror carries a harsher penalty — seven more years’ bad luck.

The witnesses kept telling me, ‘oh, you’re so lucky’. And you know what? They’re right. I’m chockablock with luck; I stink of luck. And now I have a fresh 7-year supply.



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18 thoughts on “: more farewells and adioses :

  1. Hi, Sad to hear about all the bad luck, but happy to see you alive and kicking/ writing. Losing your transport sucks, and a vehicle is so much more than just that, right?
    But, if you can’t find any other silver lining, think of all the great blog material you can get out of this.
    Hope your vegetabley-ness reduces soon. :)


    1. I’m happy to report the swelling is going down and the bruises are fading, so all is well on the injury front. I refuse to think about the car thing. The insurance people are still waiting for the damn police report — a week and a half later. If you remember, it took these same law enforcement professionals 40 minutes to reach the accident scene. Good thing we don’t depend on them in an emergency.


  2. Oof, I’m sure glad you’re okay. While your injuries do sound delicious (brussels sprouts are a real favorite) I’m doubting that’s how they feel. Yet yes indeed, you’re lucky. Crazily enough. And the thing is? Nasty events do tend to happen in clumps. Here’s hoping your clump is at its end.


  3. Buckle up baby! You poor old thing. I told you to come and stay on the farm. No rear endings out here! How lovely of those people to stick around though.. good luck with the bruises. c


    1. I’m here, just a little dinged up. And, oh, I so hope you’re right. This run of catastrophes really makes me nervous. I keep wondering what’s next. Body parts? I don’t have much else to offer.


      1. All I know is that whenever I feel completely at wit’s end (and I’m here often as a freelancer), something turns up. Always.Just keep sharing the news that you’re looking for work opportunities and for a ride. Meantime, I’m sending only good vibes.



  4. I almost felt guilty liking this. But hey, it is well written.
    You are lucky. Things could have been much worse without that seatbelt on. Also, if you lived in Canada you could be fined anywhere between $200 -$1,000 for not wearing it and demerit points.
    I’m glad you are OK but sorry you are wheeless. I spent last year that way and it sucked.


    1. See? Yet another stroke of luck: this happened in November. Right at the start of winter. I have an entire season of waiting at bus stops in snowy, windy, subzero weather to look forward to. Okay, I’ll stop. I’m just bragging now.

      PS. Thanks, Silk Purse. The fact you enjoyed it makes everything a little better. You’re the best!

      Liked by 1 person

  5. Well, that’s just….well, what can I say, but…damn, that sucks. Here’s where you are told to look at the bright side, the silver lining, you didn’t get seriously hurt…..and you should have because you weren’t wearing a seat belt. Who doesn’t wear a seat belt, what, with all these lunatics behind the wheels of cars? Cars are just plain replaceable, you aren’t. Glad you’re somewhat okay. Good luck with the job search and the car search.


    1. The scary thing? My car ended up a foot or two shorter after impact. I’m not exaggerating. So I’m reformed; I wear a seatbelt. I hate it, though.

      Thanks for coming by, Len. That was awfully nice of you :o)


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