If I could do it over, I'd start it out right,,I promise.
I strolled into work at 9:25am this morning thinking I was 25 minutes early with thoughts of having another leisurely cup of coffee before starting my day. That was before I glanced at the schedule to refresh my mind as to what my work hours for the end of the week would be and discovered that I was supposed to have been at work at 9:00 this morning. Tomorrow (Thurs) and Friday are my 10 to 6 days, not Wednesday and Thursday as I'd thought.
Boy did I feel dumb.
So, I made it through the day without screwing up anything else and then it was time to go home.
I was driving along and was about 3 or 4 miles outside the city limits when a car came out of a service station parking lot, crossed between two cars that were stopped in the left lane to make left turns, and bashed into the side of my truck. When the cab of my truck was all lit up with his headlights and I realized this ASSHOLE was gonna hit me I swerved to the right, partially to the shoulder of the highway, and avoided what could have been a 4 car accident. Since I was already on the shoulder I pulled over further and got out of the 4 lanes of traffic so I wouldn't get my ass knocked off again.
Ever try to push those little, tiny buttons on a cell phone when you're shaking like a pine tree in a hurricane? It ain't easy. And then you have to talk to whoever answers and you have to stop crying so they can understand what you're trying to tell them. When they can finally understand you, they transfer your call. Twice. YOUR 911 CALL!
By then the other driver had come up to my window to see if I was ok so I was able to relay to the THIRD dispatcher that I'd explained my predicament to that noone was hurt, (although I know my legs wouldn't have held me up if I'd tried to get out of that truck right then) but they needed to send a State Trooper out there pronto to the accident.
20 minutes later I called again.
Finally, after a 45 minute wait, on the shoulder of a 4 lane highway full of low-flying semis and cars zooming by, I get not one, but two Troopers, Opie the Third, and Trooper Winston.
Opie doesn't want to tell me anything about the dude in the car that hit me (he mentioned something about not being able to tell me if he gave him a citation or not although what I asked him was his NAME and address), all I know about him at this point is that he looked to be about 19 or 20, has long hair, and had left the scene to walk home a half a block or so, to the trailer park, to get his mother before the Troopers arrived.
Trooper Winston, however, had no such qualms about delivering a few tidbits ( I think he's still a little wary of me since he ripped off the back end of my new car with his Trooper car in 1997 while making a U-turn on that same highway). The tidbits did not make me a happy person.
The guy was driving an antique, it had to be cause Winston told me that it hadn't been licensed since 1974. He also had no drivers license, and no insurance.
At least I avoided a really bad collision by swerving over as much as I could and I can drive my truck even though it has a dent in it (dammit!!)
Did I mention that I'd made my last payment on my truck last month?
As I was leaving I asked the deputy sheriff, who'd also decided to stop by, if the dent was bad (I couldn't get out of my truck because I didn't want to risk one of those big rigs making me all mushy and stuff and also I was still shaking really bad). The good ole boy deputy told me, "Well, after you warsh that mud offin it, it'll probably show a purdy good dent". My reply was, "Kiss my ass, I live on a gravel road and I'm lucky to be getting out at all without 4-wheel-drive, have a NICE day!"
I have not had a good day ya'll.
And tomorrow I've got to start my day by getting repair estimates before going to work.
Brent, can't you move down here and straighten these boys out???