Cars Rule

You would not believe this. I think my cars have personalities. Really. I have a little red Suzuki Swift that I bought brand new in 1989. "She" is tops. Fantastic mileage (40 mpg), doesn't go through oil, likes to travel, never talks back to me, no dings or dents, the upholstery is still perfect. She's a little gem.

And then two years ago, while she was innocently parked across the street along a vacant lot lined with boulders, she was creamed by a drunk driver who sideswiped her totally from back to front and then smashed the other side by squishing her against the boulders. I got up at 3:00 in the morning right after it happened and all I could do was stand there in my jammies and stare. I couldn't believe this had happened to my trusty excellent little car.

So I bought a new car and Mechanic Man parked Little Red in the garden.

The new one just doesn't have my heart. It has a very dull personality. It's boring. It's silver and so are a gazillion other cars. I'll park at the store and when I come out – there are a whole row of silver cars like ticky tacky houses all in a row. It doesn't call out to me. It just sits there, blending in with all the rest.

Maybe that explains why I have had a couple fender benders with it in the last couple months. It's almost like a disease. I'm starting to get paranoid. I'm starting to hyperventilate and second guess myself. Will today be another "bump" in the road?

I don't think my silver car likes me.

So, I went to the store to get stuff for home made tacos. Mechanic Man makes tacos to die for. I got home and discovered the corn shells broke when they were tossed in the bag with everything else, so I went back to the store to replace them.

And I bumped into the car next to where I parked. Don't ask me how. I don't know. It just happened. So I pulled to the spot in front of where I was and checked the damages. Scraped the front bumper on my car. Nice little dent in the door of the victim. I called my insurance company and relayed all the petty information.

• No – I'm not hurt.
• No – I'm not blocking traffic.
• Hell, no, I'm not fixing it THIS time.
• No – I don't know who owns the other car because they aren't here. It was parked.
• I'm in a parking lot and all the cars are parked.
• The owner isn't here. The owner parked their car and went into the store.
• Fine. I'll leave a note on the other car.
• Thank you so much.

Only the owner never came out (turned out she worked there all night). Well, I was so rattled by the whole thing and that it was MY fault AGAIN, I saw that the window was slightly open and I slipped the note through the opening only to just at that moment realize that the car I hit was the next one over and not this one! And this one was a junkie, dented, crapped out piece of junk. I couldn't leave that note in this car saying "I'm sorry I just hit your car here's all my insurance information, my name, my phone number, my first born. . . . ." So I tried sticking my hand through the window and I couldn't get past my elbow. And so I waited. I prayed that the first person to come out would be the wrong person so I could get my note back. Otherwise, if it were the right person then we'd both have to wait for the wrong person. . . . . . Are you with me?

Finally a guy came towards me and to the pile of junk car. I explained my predicament and he laughingly gave me my note back and said "Lady, too bad you didn't hit my car. I would have never noticed."

So – long story short – the gal that owned the car I hit wants to get a new car in a year and she doesn't care about the dent in the door and was very surprised that I even bothered to stick around. And the insurance company said that next time I have an accident I will have to pay two deductibles because I made a claim on this one and even though neither one of us wants our car repaired, you can't save up dings and scrapes and have them applied by one insurance claim if you have already made another claim. It's so confusing.

In the meantime, Mechanic Man found a little white Suzuki Swift and brought it home and parked next to Little Red. He's all excited about getting the car fixed up so we can run around on 40 miles per gallon. We got the little car on Thursday; Friday we were driving his big Town Car, when it suddenly smoked, popped, choked, and died a shuddering, sputtering death, on the freeway. As we waited for the tow truck, he said, "ya know, I think the cars have been talking to each other and this one is jealous."

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