A Dramatic Retelling

As of yesterday, I can claim that I've been involved in a fender bender. Yesterday afternoon, a big man in a big truck, in complete disregard to the color of the stoplight in front of him, attempted to make his way across the intersection. There was only one problem with his maneuver. I was in his way...So he ran into me. Logically. I'm not quite sure exactly what I was doing at that moment in time, but I'm pretty sure I was about to take a sip of water from my water bottle, because when I looked up, water was all over my steering wheel. And I was shaking.

I didn't cry, but calmly got out of the car to talk to the big man. He told me that there was no damage to my car, but I insisted that we pull into the nearest Walgreen's parking lot, and I called my dad. He, of course, saved the day. Sure enough, dad found damage where the big man "could not." My trunk won't close (unless properly secured from the inside with a string), and the back frame is possibly pretty bent. That's what happens when a big man hits a "little girl" as he kept calling me.

Yada, yada, yada, the police man showed up. His name was B. Street, and he asked me if I was okay. Insurance information, licenses, and phone numbers were exchanged, and I finally went about my merry way. All in all, it was a good first fender bender experience, and for the millionth time in my life I'm grateful for Jim Faber- that man has saved my butt more times than I can count.
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On a lighter note: Le café et la musique avec ma meilleure amie ce soir