It's been a while since I've updated this thing.
Many interesting things have happened since my last entry... I'm just not quite sure where to start.
First off, I had my first car wreck.
On my second day of school.
Tuesday, August 31st.
Don't get too excited, it's not even worthy to be called a car wreck.
It's actually quite an embarrassment to even call it anything descriptive because everything seems overly justified.
When you say that you got into an accident, or a car crash, or wreck, people get this horrible image in their minds of pulverized metal, glass, ambulances, rubber-neckers and lots of blood and guts.
Well, maybe that's just me. But I digress.
My "accident" was so far from this mental image that I don't even know what to call it.
I think it's more like an "oops."
Well anyway, my oops happened in the parking lot of my school/work, and I was running late and in a hurry to find a decent parking space so it wouldn't take even more time to walk to my office.
Low and behold, I find this grand parking space near the front of the lot, between a big yellow truck and some other little beat up car.
As I'm turning left into the spot, I am carefully assessing each side of my car to make sure that I am free and clear to go all the way in.
This is where it gets fuzzy.
Next thing I know, I hear a big BOOM, say a well-fitting phrase, and slam on the breaks. Both cars are rocking and my car comes to a complete stop. I sit there quietly for a pace or two.
Have you ever been in that confused mental state of not knowing what just happened, if it really happened, or if your just in a bad dream? In other words, you're in total disbelief. Yeah? Well that's where I was at this particular moment in time.
After a minute or two of trying to wake up from this horrible nightmare I was having, I soon realized that I did indeed hit a big, tall, expensive, yellow truck. One that looked to be owned by someone who was big, tall, and scary. & it was the only oddly-colored car in the entire lot. My favorite color. Go figure.
I backed out and nervously re parked so I could pull out my cell phone and call my boss to let her know why I was late. As my luck turns out, no one is answering the phone.
Most likely because I'm supposed to be there answering it.
-Mental head slap-
So unwillingly, I get out to assess the damage.
One big fat dent in the rear panel of the truck.
Way too big of a dent to look like I just bumped it while parking.
It looked more like I had just hit it a little, freaked out, and accidentally slammed the gas petal.
I begin to ponder the idea of just leaving and pretending like nothing happened, but then my conscious kicked in and I knew that I had to at least leave my information.
Besides, there were probably witnesses.
To calm down I decided to call my boyfriend because he has always had that special talent to make me feel better when I'm freaking out.
I knew his class had just started, but I was hoping that by some miracle he would answer... but I got his voicemail.
So I as I walked to my work to talk to my boss, I called my mom to see what she wants me to do.
"I'm at school, but when I was trying to park I kind of, um... Hit someone."
"You hit someone?"
"Are they there? Did you talk to them?"
"No, the car was parked. I was turning in, I miss-judged and I hit them. What do I do?"
"Hold on, talk to your dad."
"Hey Nita, what's up?"
"Hi dad. Um... I was pulling into a parking space at school and I hit a truck."
"What?! WHERE ARE YOU?"
"Dad! I'm at school!"
(Then I think he said a whole bunch of angry things, but I don't remember.)
"Dad, can you stop being mean and just tell me what to do?"
"I don't know!"
"You don't know what I should do?! Put mom back on."
Then I hear my mom's voice again, calm as ever.
"Mom, why did you give the phone to him, he's being all mean and doesn't even know what he wants me to do."
"Well I don't know... But you need to leave your information. Is the hit bad?"
"I put a dent in the back left panel."
"Is your car damaged?"
"Hard to tell. Its so screwed up anyway that I can't tell the difference. I think I might have some scrapes."
"Okay, well get the make, model, and licence plate number of the car, and write it down. Then leave your insurance information and put it in the windshield."
"Okay, I'll do all of that and go talk to my boss then I'll call you back."
So I go talk to my boss, then I go back to my car to do all of that information business. & because I'm trying not to draw attention to myself and look insane because I am inspecting some random truck in the school parking lot, I try to do as much as I can in my car by looking out through my windows, every once in a while getting out to get some more information (Licence plate #, etc.) and then jumping back in my car to write it down.
Which I now realized looked much more insane than if I would have done the alternative.
Then I call my mom back to inform her of my progress, and she told me that I did good, but now she wants me to go to the office and track down the owner of the truck. (!)
First off, the office isn't going to know whose truck it is. They don't keep records of whose vehicle belongs to who.
Secondly, I do NOT want to talk to this person.
"Anita, you just hit some one's car. You have to talk to them!"
"Mom, that's why I left all of my information. So I don't have to talk to them."
"Yes you do! Maybe they won't want to do anything about it and our insurance won't go up!"
"Mom, they're going to want to do something about it. I just bashed in the back of their truck with my car, why wouldn't they want to get it fixed?"
"Anita, GO TO THE OFFICE AND GET THE INFORMATION TO TALK TO THEM."
I get off the phone and re park my car in a spot that's far from the damaged truck.
"I don't want them to know it's me, and besides, maybe they'll get mad and key my car or something. Angry people do scary things." I rationalized, then got out and reluctantly began to walk to the Student Center office.
I decide text Sergey and ask him if there's any way that he can call me right now, and almost immediately his photo pops up on my phone along with his personalized ring tone.
"Hey you, what's up?"
"Sorry, were you in class?"
"Yeah, but I left to call you."
"I'm sorry, I just need someone to calm me down."
"Why, what happened?"
-whiny voice- "I was in a hurry to get to work and when I was trying to park I... hit some one's truck."
"Are you serious?"
"I know. And now my mom wants me to go to the office and try to contact the person, but I don't think they can, and besides, I really don't want to talk to them."
"Yeah, they aren't going to be able to do that."
"Well I have to still try or else she'll be mad at me."
"Do you want me to go with you? I can leave, the professor's teaching us stuff I kind of know already anyway."
"You would do that?"
"Of course I would babe, I want to be there for you."
"Okay, thanks love."
"Alright, give me ten minutes."
A little while later he comes and finds me in the library and gives me a much-needed hug. Then we decide that our best option is to call security so they can write up a report on it, so we go to one of the overly-happy Secretaries and Sergey asks if she can call security. "You need security?!" She asks wide-eyed and panic-stricken, "Well yeah, my girlfriend just got into an accident and she needs to report it."
I cringe. I wish we didn't have to talk out loud to communicate sometimes. Life would be so much better if we could telecommunicate the things we don't want other people to hear.
"Oh, okay sure!" She says, sounding relieved. She picks up the phone to dial, and while it's ringing she says to me, "what an awful way to start off the day!" I solemnly nod my head. Then I guess someone she knew had answered the phone and she says, "Oh hello! Yes, this is Iris! How are you? I'm doing very well, thank you!" Sergey and I look at each other with raised eyebrows. After a few more seconds of friendly conversation Iris gets down to business, "Well I am calling because I have a student here who hit a parked car in the parking lot and she needs security to come down and write a report." A few people in the library turn their heads our way (cringe), then she hangs up. "They should be here soon, you can go ahead and wait in the lobby. Don't worry honey, it will all be taken care of." I thank her, then we head off into the lobby to await the arrival of one of the security guards.
10 minutes later, through the window we see a scruffy-looking guy pull up on a bicycle in a police-styled uniform and a helmet, and he gloriously trots up the stairs and into the library. He looks lost, so I do the universal "over here!" wave with both hands, recognition hits, and he comes over.
"So, you hit a parked car in the parking lot?"
Cringe. Everyone likes to say this basic sentence very loudly.
& This is a library, mind you.
"Oh no!" He puts his hands to his face, "What happened?"
I told him my story.
"Oh okay, so did you leave your information? Like your phone number?"
"Well yes, I didn't leave my phone number though."
His eyes got big. "You didn't leave your phone number?!"
"Well, I left my insurance phone number because my mom said not to leave mine." -Nervous giggle-
The uniform is intimidating.
"Oh! Okay. You did everything right then!"
"Wait... I did? Really? Oh okay... So what do I do now? Don't you guys write up a report or something?"
"No, there's nothing that we can really do. You did all the right things, so you're good."
"Oh okay, so that's it?"
"Well thank you."
"No problem, have yourself a good day!"
Several weeks go by and I don't see the yellow truck. We assumed that they didn't want it getting any more messed up so they probably are using another car at the moment.
But then just last week my best friend, Natasha, spots it, dent and all it's glory, and in the vehicle is a big, dark, very strong-looking guy. I don't know if he was Mexican or Samoan because we only saw the back of his head, but even then he looked scary. & that's saying something.
I thanked God a million times that I never had to encounter him.
If I did, I might not have been alive today to tell you the story.
I could have been his lunch that day...
That wouldn't have been so lovely.
Anyway, that's the story of my oops that I've been dying to tell you all.
Now I must go from one job to the other because at 12pm I work on the other campus.
If anything interesting happens between point A and point B I shall write another entry and tell you all about it.
Sincerely, Yours Truly