Did I ever tell you that I dinged the Prius?
Yeah. Dinged 'er up all right. A small ding - but a ding nonetheless. After all, the very sound of the word infers something minor, doesn't it? You can't have a big ding. Oh wait.
Can we start over?
Anyway - Corn and I knew that if the car was gonna get -y'know - it would be me who did it. I did not attempt to dispute this, because I agreed wholeheartedly. I accept my faults and subsequently blog about them (Later: How I cannot stop cracking my jaw. ESPECIALLY when someone asks me to stop).
Not long before Christmas I was out and about running errands in the car. I was out for hours. It was all good til I came home and opened the garage door to our underground parking. Small door to begin with. Remember Alice in Wonderland? Anyhoo..our space is on the right, with a guy just before that (so, he's immediately on the right). To the left of our spot is a pillar. Pillar on one side - car on the other and not a lot of room to manoever. It's a bit of a tight squeeze - but I can do it!
However, on this night - one of our neighbours was behind me in his SUV waiting to get in, too. I was okay with that. In fact, I realized once the door opened that the dude to the right wasn't there! His car was gone -so, I could actually turn in a bit early into his spot and straighten myself out. But I actually turned TOO early. That's when I heard the brain-squeezing sound of metal on metal as my right rear door played touchy feely with the garage door frame.
I got out. And then of course had to face my neighbour who'd seen the whole thing behind me. Ergh..witnesses to my embarassment. We milled around, gingerly touching the damage. He recommended a body shop. He said he'd done the same thing. And that made me feel ten zillion times better even if it was a freakin' lie.
But what can ya do? The ding isn't too noticeable (if you have cataracts) and a dinged Prius is better than no Prius and especially better than an ancient Mazda Cronos 626. Do you remember me telling you about this car in the summer?! CORN STILL HAS IT. IT WILL NOT DIE even though I will it to, every day. It is his 'stunt car' for a movie which hasn't been made. So guess what? Dude has to keep shovelling it out and moving it around OUTSIDE all winter because he wants it for stunts. I hate the stunt car. I hate it. I want the stunt car to do it's own damn stunts. Like driving off the Jacques Cartier Bridge for starters. On fire. With a lot of bolts loose. And maybe a dead elephant strapped to it's roof (the elephant having died of natural causes in it's sleep after a very long and happy life - it's dying wish to be submerged in the historic waters of the mighty St. Lawrence on the roof of a jalopy. Don't ask me - elephants can be weird that way).
OKAY..but now back to the Prius. After the ding, I dragged my sullen ass upstairs, walked in the door, tossed my keys on the counter and proclaimed, "I DINGED IT!" I heard Corn start chuckling from down the hall. He came around the corner, wrapped me in a big Corn hug and said, "Congratulations! You popped your cherry!"
We knew it would be me.
8 comments:
What? No girlie tears, from you OR Corn?
You have to be girly for girly tears, weiner. Why cry after dinging a car? Who cares!? I'd cry if I hurt myself - but the car? Better than me, non?
Your so right Nat. Since it was only the car all is good. Your lucky you did not ding his prized Mazda.
I dinged hubby's porsche just as he brought it home. There was no getting out of that one.
ONLY the car? See, chicks just don't understand.
I bet Hubby shed a few tears when his non-understanding so-called "Better half" dinged the Porsche. He might have disappeared for some alone time before he shed those tears, but he did shed them.
I feel your pain, Brothers. Ask me sometime about my 1980 Chevette.
I am sure he did shed them, but hey its ONLY a CAR after all. Last time I checked it did not have a pulse. Even though he babies it like a breathing human being.
So what about your Chevette?
You know, just a whole lotta bricks on the front seats of the stunt car would suffice, rather than have to rationalize an elephant dying of natural causes. Plus, moving the bricks - a few at a time - into the car would be easier than strapping a dead (of natural causes, of course) elephant to the roof.
(This is assuming that you'd be the one prepping the car for its swim. I won't tell Corn.)
...and as long as everyone is okay, I agree - no tears ever need to be shed over a car. Actually, I think Maria and her husband probably only cry if they have to go more than three weeks without taking a vacation.
;-P
JB: How did you know?
nope...i totally cried when someone ran a red light and smashed into my passenger door - after i yelled the **** out of the guy who did it - on the drive back home with my busted side door. they were more tears of anger of course (mingled with a few tears of frustration bc of the likely insurance-fee-hike-that-i-can't-afford...)
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