Crash Into Me

I hit someone today. No, I didn’t bitch slap anyone, I worked at home so the opportunity didn’t present itself. No we aren’t here to discuss my bitch slapping or lack thereof, but my giving a rectal to an unsuspecting motorist in front of me on the road today. First of all, let me just say if you are going to do the motorized version of a UFIA, this was the woman to go after, she was so nice about it. Which made me feel even worse for ruining her day.

What did I do? I hit the back of her car, duh. Why? Sheer stupidity. Clearly it was my fault. Thank goodness no one was hurt.

We did wait 30 minutes for a police officer to come to the scene, because we did not have any injuries and the damage to the cars was minimal. Again, this was a pain for the person whose car I felt the need to play rectal thermometer with, because she was taking her grandson who had just gotten out of the hospital and needed to be taken to a doctor’s appointment. I was late picking up my kids from school. The school was great about it, they kept them for an hour while I dealt with the wreckage that is my life.

The officer was female and she was also very nice. I appear to be the only asshole in this entire post, so I have that going for me.

She called me over to the car at one point and said:

PO: You don’t weigh as much as your driver’s license says, how much do you weigh?

Me: Yeah, I've lost some weight. I weigh ..... (hell no I am not publishing that shit on my blog)

PO: Your tags are expired.

Me: But it is paid and registered

PO: Call your insurance agent and get your current renewal and valid dates for your policy.

Me: Okay.

PO: I am going to have to cite you for not controlling your speed.

Me: I know.

PO: I will take your word about the registration, it isn't coming up on my computer. (Who would have thought I would ever be grateful for cellular dead spots?)

So to summarize: she did not write my sorry ass up for not having current insurance cards, a wrong address on my Driver’s License, although my car is registered the tags never appeared in that blackhole everybody else refers to as a mailbox. Nor did she ask me if I was a crack whore, drunk or both (yay soccer mom getup and mini-van, we skated on those charges!) on my way to get my kids. She rocked. She apologized for having to cite me, I thanked her for being kind.

My final conclusions; always carry KY Jelly in the glove box, along with your current insurance cards and registration and thank you to 2 ladies that could have made a bad day so much worse.

P.S. To my insurance agent, pimpin more insurance coverage, while I am standing on the side of road talking to a police officer, not the best marketing strategy ever.