The Ford Focus

It's rare that I post twice in a row. So, you know this must be special.

I have anxiety, fine, we know this. I also just FREAK out when it comes to unfamiliar territory. As summer friend told me yesterday, the following is a depiction of the exact opposite of what she would have done -

I'm driving to pick up the girl in Long Island, the details of this are unimportant. I left after work and sat in two hours of stop and go traffic. You know...you go a little, maybe make it over 20 mph and then come to a complete stop.

I'm about 20 minutes away from the house when I start coming to a stop and I hear "CRUNCH." I perk up and look in front of me, did I hit the car in front of me? How could I do that? I was stopping! I look in my rear view mirror to witness some nasty old fucker throwing his car in reverse and driving away...leaving me there.

He bumped me and I, in turn, bumped the car in front of me. The SUV in front of me. He pulls over leaving no space for me so I pull over in front of him. Before I can even get out of my car or make words the man is at my window, he says, "It's just a scratch, I'm going." He leaves me there, too.

Fine, I drive away, shaken, but okay.

I get to summer friend's house. Before I get out of the car I call my man. I tell him someone bumped me on the road and drove away. I'm okay. It wasn't that hard, no damage. I hang up. (See what I left out there? But no harm done, right?)

Wrong. So, so wrong.

I get out of my car and I see what I've missed - why everyone ditched me on the road. I HAD DAMAGE. One of my headlights was pushed under my hood and the hood was popped up. I start to hyperventilate. I go in and confess my sins to summer friend.

She's all, "WHY DIDN'T YOU GET THE PLATES OF THE OTHER GUY? WHY DIDN'T YOU GET OUT OF YOUR CAR? WHY? WHY? WHY?"

GOD I DON'T FUCKING KNOW, OKAY? I'm slow. I'm a dumbass. I'm fucking disabled when it comes to stuff like this. I start sweating.

Of course, now I have to call my man and fill him in on the details I had previously left out. Hello dear, I actually bumped someone, too, with your car, that I am not even listed on the insurance to drive, and I have damage....and I'm sorry and I love you and please don't kill me, bye.

He didn't answer so I left a message. All the while my ugly mangled Ford Fuckus staring at me through the window...while my kid jumps up and down next to me asking me, "WHAT DID YOU DO TO OUR CAR?" Get away from me child before I run you over, too...

Man calls back later, doesn't even care. Is happy I'm okay. Summer friend's husband fixes the headlight so it looks like nothing ever happened. Happily ever after. I really freaked out for nothing...sorta. Moral of the story? Don't tailgate. No wait...don't be a fucking dumbass. Yeah.