Sep

Masticated.

By Tess

That’s how I feel, completely chewed up n’ spit out. Been a rough couple of days, boys and girls. Knock-down-drag-out power-plays from the kid. Unpleasant doctor’s visits. Nipped by the bird. You know how it goes, petty but cumulative annoyances.

And then poor Charlie got into an accident yesterday afternoon- he’s fine, the other guy’s fine- pulling out of Walgreen’s on Magazine. The hit-ee was very nice about it, but as time went on I was more and more impressed with Charlie’s ability to keep a lid on it all.

He called me at 1:29 to tell me about the accident.

The NOPD arrived at- are you ready for this? 6:29. FIVE HOURS!

Five hours they sat in the damned parking lot of a major thoroughfare of the city, waiting. The other guy’s car had minor damage, while my car had more significant but thankfully not fatal injuries. But by that time, of course there was nowhere open to tow it to.

Charlie was patient and of course thouroughly wiped out by the time he finally made it home. I would’ve been a raving lunatic by then.

The only real accident I’ve ever been in was when I totalled my car in New Jersey. Long story short, a guy stopped dead in the middle of the highway to make an illegal u-turn and I slammed the bejesus out of him. (But he sued me. Naturally.) Anyway, I was in Williamstown, where they have about a 1:1 ratio of police to actual citizenry. Within moments, we had 5 cop cars, 2 fire trucks and 2 ambulances. Frankly, they were just happy to have something to do. I think there would’ve been the same reaction to a jaywalker.

Anyway, I’ve lost my train of thought. There was a point to all that, but it’s wandered off and gotten lost. Something about extremes, no doubt.

And the importance of keeping damn rental car coverage on your policy, which I haven’t done.