Vehicular Rape

Now before I start in on this sordid little tale, I need to state that I am not DEAD. I’m sorry to all of you who are bored at work and have had to resort to actual WORK to alleviate the boredom for the 30 seconds that it takes to read my insane ramblings. I’ve let you down and for that I am sorry. BUT! I have a good reason and THAT I’ll save for another blog. (Actually SEVERAL good reasons and none of them are my offspring…except the ones from last week; those involve the Tiny Terrorists and their near death experience – near death that would have been brought on my none other than ME). Another day, all in good time, yadda, yadda, yadda. I’ll just write about this one incident now. It’s been said that when I post many times in one day that there are those who can’t keep up and can’t read it all and there fore miss things (which to be honest, really isn’t important ) – kind of like talking to me in person after I’ve eaten *heavenly music starts and choir of angels sing* CUPCAKES! *sigh* Nothing like a sugar buzz. But I digress, I promise to write about the other things that have happened if for no other reason to fill this space with brain numbing ramblings born from my insane hyper squirrel brain. Really, I promise. Mostly. Well I promise to write about something, I may forget some of the incidents and choose to actually just make crap up and match them to random photos on my camera (must tell about accidentally wiping the 1500 or so photos off my camera – it was absolute brilliance) or possibly just ignore everything and write about new stuff.

ANYWAY! I was the victim of vehicular rape… or rather, Easy Bake Oven was. Please, sit if you aren’t. The tale is ugly, have some coffee or cocoa. Comfee now? Good.

It all started as a fairly normal day a couple of weeks ago. Me trying to force the Little People to get ready for school and leave on time in a CHEERFULL and HAPPY mood. It involves lots of yelling and whining and this fabulous day it meant that I was running late. Because one of my important (and unpaid jobs) is to be the CHAUFER of mi familia (life sucks with one car) I dropped K off at work and headed off to my work. I take the service road of the toll road to get to work and this fateful day was no different except that I was about 20 minutes late. I come to a stop light after a toll exit where people are trying to crowd over to the far right lane to make their turns. As I approach there are two trucks acting like they are going to get into the lane I’m in (middle lane), neither one have their turn signal on and they are both pretty far from the actual exit. I pull forward just past the front of the back truck (shiny new white Cadillac Escalade) and leave enough room for the front truck to get in when the light changes. This light is so damn long it’s just painful at times (that whole clutch thing). As I’m sitting there singing badly in my car I look over at the Escalade and the driver is looking at me then he inches his SUV forward just a touch in the universal “I want in that lane” move, so I pull my car all the way up to the bumper of the front truck in the universal “Oh hell no you aren’t” move. I look back over and see him looking at me, so I figure he got the message and I go back to the Journey lyrics at hand while waiting for the light to change. The light changes and I go forward, the first truck goes forward, and the SUV goes sideways – to the right. I’m looking in horror as this big monstrosity pushes my side mirror back as it comes side to side with The Easy Bake. The fucker in the Escalade didn’t even stop until I started honking my horn! Then he just pulled back into his lane and turned on his left turn signal. The light has changed and he’s sitting at the light right next to me now, he doesn’t even acknowledge me as I shower him with some of my most colorful and inventive insulting swearwords. The light changes and he just fucking turns! He doesn’t even attempt to stop! Fucker! Ahhh but karma is a bitch you know, I see a enormous black scratch down the length of his shiny new SUV. I laugh as he turns and I drive off, knowing that a new scratch on The Easy Bake won’t even be noticed but he’ll have fun explaining that one to his wife. BUT WAIT! There’s more!

I’m still pissed but pleased that karma has done her own part of balancing things. I call K to tell him that the side mirror – the ONLY SIDE MIRROR on the car – is now bent back for which I am seriously pissed. K has all the joys of listening to me speak sentences comprised entirely of swear words. (It’s a gift) While driving I realize that I fucking need my side mirror and since it isn’t shattered, just bent back, maybe I can get it back into position. So I start messing with it at each stop light – K is still on the phone with me as I continue to cuss about the mirror when suddenly it snaps back into place! Right back into place! Of course it also caught my thumb in the process. So now I’m cussing in earnest because it FUCKING HURT! And I’m trying not to bleed on my work clothes while driving. It was fun. I finally let K off the phone when I stopped seeing stars and found something disposable to bleed on in the car. It’s all good.

SOOOOOOOOOOOO what’s the message from this fun story kiddies? Don’t play chicken with a piece of shit car, chances are they don’t have jack to lose. I think Mr. Dickhole in the Escalade learned that. Oh and the best part was that when I got to work, I saw white paint on my car (the whole damn length of it) but it wiped right off with my paper towel. As for me, my thumb is still sporting a nasty bruise but the icky cut is no longer looking disgusting, inflamed and somewhat like zombie flesh.

Okay kids that’s enough bed time stories for now, go brush your teeth and use the potty. Shoo, shoo, off to bed with ya.