It’s happened; my car is gone–taken away to the scrap yard. Surprisingly, there is a slight sense of sadness. It was my first car, and a good one at that. But it’s more that it was the car brought dropped me off at college, and would pick me up on the weekends for a stay at home. There were lots of talks with my dad when he owned it, and subsequently a lot of long talks with Jess sitting in front of her apartment, trips to the beach, bringing home Moose, and the drive to Portland to start Jess and my honeymoon.Ok, so maybe it’s not necessarily the car, but it’s more of where the cars been and who’s been with it.
That being said, I hate to see what happens when I get my new cell phone…
Jess and I took a trip to the bank, sounds thrilling, I know. We were in there for about fifteen minutes, when we came back out we notice the Moose was in the way back of my car. As Jess opened her door, she says, “Chris, did you remember to take the steak out last night?” My answer was a noncommittal “I think so.” She disagreed with my recollection, her proof being that there was a big piece of tenderloin, sitting on the back seat. I then opened the rear of my car, so see my dog, standing over an opened (and warm) package of steak. The dog must have headed straight for it as we walked in to the bank. The spoiled pup thought that this twelve-dollar package for USDA Choice cut beef was his mid car-ride snack. I ended up having to throw away two pounds of steak in the ashtray outside of the bank. I’m sure that will give somebody some pause.
Here’s really what the post about Wednesday is about:
Deer versus car, versus my car, versus the car that t-boned us at 55 miles an hour
My plans for here on out is the typical holiday what-have-ya, then on the 28th, I’m going to head to Bend for a bit (weather permitting) to see Jess and pick out (hopefully) a caterer and photographer. Speaking of the wedding, I’ve already got the plane tickets for our trip back east.
Picture this:Sitting in the densest of traffic outside of Salem, heading north bound on I-5. Southbound, there are absolutely no cars at all, except for the ODOT truck that is pushing another car with it’s bumper. You sit there in amazement, trying to figure the conditions under which a person would need their car pushed down the freeway. You’re amazed by this phenomenon, so is everyone else around you–including the guy driving behind you, the guy who fails to stop his car until it smashed into the back of you car.
Yep, I got rear-ended on my way to the ‘Burn on Wednesday. Stopped in traffic, the guy behind me neglected to follow suit. Both my sister and I are ok, we’re lucky that it was a relatively slow speed. My car survived more or less intact, if you don’t pay attention to my muffler that now sits right above the road, from time to time kissing the pavement. That, and my bumper is a little messed up. However, this reassures me that I never want a little car, because the height of my car, sent the other car’s nose under me. His hood was bend all the way back to the windshield, slightly bending his radiator and busting ever single light in the front of his car. The coolest thing was that my exhaust pipe made a perfect puncture wound in his bumper–a perfect round circle was missing from his bumper, which I had an exhaust pipe plug consisting of plastic and Styrofoam. Not to mention, how the little metal hook under my bumper cut straight through his hood. In an instant, we went from watching what was happening on the side of the road to becoming the attraction at the side of the road.
The other guy was very nice about all of this, apologizing–he was very sincere. I’m just glad that the dog he had with him and his two friends was alright. The State Police showed up as well as two ODOT incident response trucks. At which point Meagan said to me, “now you’re the one who is to blame for holding up traffic.” To which the other driver said, “Actually, I think I’m the one to blame.” The State Trooper got all of our information but unfortunately wrote the other guy a ticket for following too close, which is a little more salt in the wound seeing as his car was probably totaled.
I then drove to Salem to a Honda dealership, met my dad and got an estimate on the damage. Looks about shy of $700. Wired my muffler (which was nicely bowed in and about 2 inches shorter) to the bottom of my car, then I drove back to Woodburn… ready to deal with the rest of the holiday. Hopefully this is only thing that happens over the Thanksgiving break.
As I was reading T.S. Elliot for 20th Century Lit, I get a light knock on my door; one of my residents sheepishly sticks his head around my door and says: “uh, Chris, I have a small problem: I sent my skateboard through the lounge window.” To my amazement he had. In my 19 years I have never seen 1/8th of an inch thick glass that had shattered like that former lounge window did. If this keeps up the way it is, I can’t wait until Halloween. This story comes with a moral: Don’t take a skateboard break between Math 270 homework, it might end up costing you money.
I am beginning to think my hall has an knack for breaking stuff that is in the lounge, first it was the coffee table and now a window… I fear for the support beams.