So today I’m heading over to Chez Jennifer and Bo to let Julius outside during the day, since Bo works really long hours and Jennifer is out of town. I’m stopped at a light on Western behind several cars, pondering the fate of the universe, when the light turns green and we start inching forward. Then suddenly........*CRUNCH*! You’ve got to be kidding, I think to myself. Again??? Another rear-end collision??
We pull over, and I swoop out of the car like an avenging angel, ready to unleash my wrath. The girl in the car that hit me is apologizing before she even gets out of the car. Taking full blame – which makes sense, but you never know when some assclown is going to come along and tell you that you were “stopped wrong” or some such crap. Praises my F*ck Awareness, Find a Cure bumper sticker. Apologizes some more, profusely. Says her foot slipped off the brake, there's no excuse for that, she's so sorry. Shit. She’s so nice and remorseful that yelling at her would be like kicking a puppy.
I look at my own car, tug at the spare wheel, and other than a few scratches on the wheel cover, it looks fine. Her car’s hood is completely crumpled in, however, having sacrificed itself to save mine apparently. And she’s so distressed that as she’s writing down her contact info for me, I tell her the story about the assclown on I-55 who totaled my car, and that compared to that, this is nothing, that at least she wasn’t going too fast. I know, just call me Chainsaw Tasha here.
On the other hand, isn’t it the American Way to sue people? And nothing says “whiplash” and “big bucks” like getting rear-ended, especially when you're innocently sitting in your car, and you have The Cancer. And sure, my back is killing me, though some would say that’s still from surgery 3 weeks ago – to which I say, as if. Talk about a lack of cutting edge thinking there.
Therefore, I think I can sum up today’s activities in one word: ka-ching! Helloooo, Easy Street!