So last week, Wednesday to be exact, I was on my way to get my hair trimmed when my blissful afternoon was RUDELY interrupted by a fender bender! More accurately, her fender and my passenger-side front quarter panel. The daughter of my across the street neighbors, Dick and Carolyn Sturm (no names have been changed to "protect the innocent") is the perp. She's a GROWN woman in her thirties I'm guessing. She was visiting from Round Rock and was on her way to the grocery store when her trip was interrupted by my truck being right behind her. My truck, which was already finished backing up and just starting to drive forward-parallel to the curb. Funny, but I thought that automatically gave me the right-of-way. Not according to the driver manual of Kelli Reeves.
We both were the only witnesses and the only ones in our respective vehicles. She ran into her mom's house while I was still trying to figure out what happened and how bad the damage was. I thought she ran in for her phone, but apparently she "went to tell her mommy on me" for the way my neighbor reacted to me. Oooh, the glares and stares! AND her granddaughter (Kelli's kid), too! Looking at ME like I was covered in dog poo and smelled just that bad! BEG YOUR PARDON...YOU backed into ME! By the look of my car, it was OBVIOUS to anybody. Anybody, that is, except them. They are the exception. Heaven FORBID they be at fault. (They can probably walk on water, too!)
I am trying to remain calm. At this point, I am determined to take the high road. That feeling subsides later, just you wait...
Kelli and I exchange insurance info and make our apologies with no admission of guilt on either side. Just a mutual admission to us both needing to be more careful. Apparently that is code for "my insurance will take care of mine and yours will do yours." I went on about my way and she hers. When I got home, one hour later, I called my insurance co. to see if she had reported the accident. I asked my agent for advice and she said it was up to me. Then I called Bobby. He said, "Heck yeah, call her insurance agent! It was her fault." So that's what I did. I went about the rest of the afternoon feeling fairly settled. I was unaware of the storm that was brewing.
At nine that night, as we pulled into the driveway from our Wednesday night activities, I was pounced upon by Kelli's mommy and daddy. Her dad brought over a flashlight to look at the damage. He then proceeds to light into me with "why wasn't the police called?" (yes, his grammar is THAT bad) and "the insurance agent called us to say that you said it was Kelli's fault." I did describe what happened without using those exact words, but let's call a spade a spade. What a huge JERK!! ( more like a word that rhymes with bass) Her PARENTS got involved? Seriously? They weren't there! NOW I'm PISSED! What she told them about what happened evidently made me look like the Wicked Witch of the West. So, being the helicopters that they are, they swooped in to make sure their little Kelli Welli wasn't going to be messed with. I guess they still see her as their wittle sweet sixteen year old who is so naive and innocent. How dare the big bad world scare her! Do they really think they are doing her a favor by stepping in and fighting her battles? What happens now that she's back in Round Rock? Is her daddy going to give the big bad bullies a tongue lashing over the phone?
LONG story short, we are taking it up the tailpipe regarding the repairs. The nasty-a'd Sturms are just going along like they haven't been inconvenienced at all. They are convinced it was my fault! Those old, blind, half-wits! Those crazy, co-dependent helicopters! I am trying to keep this G-rated. But it's hard, believe me!
What I want to do is egg their house, key their cars and let Emma poop all over their yard without cleaning it up! Stuff so juvenile it would look like local teenagers out for a vandalism joyride. But I don't. (She said begrudgingly!) What I DO is call them names under my breath and give them "the nostril flare of total rejection!" (5 points if you know where that came from) In my conversations with God I am honest about not wanting to forgive them, not wanting to turn the other cheek. Fine, I'll forgive but I won't forget...yada yada yada!
Hey, even Jesus called the Pharisees "vipers"! I figure I'm in good company! He'll sit by me even when I can't say anything nice!
