"Call Me Maybe" was on the radio, which made the whole thing even more startling. You just don't expect to be rear-ended while listening to Carly Rae Jepsen.
Until today, I'd never been in a car accident when I was the one driving. I haven't even been pulled over by a cop before. So this was exciting. A major life milestone.
My first thought after being hit was: Oh my god. Who is it that's always in the wrong in a rear-end collision? I know it's always one of the people. Which person is it!?!
Then I remembered, with about 65% confidence, that it's always the person who does the rear-ending. I regained my composure and pulled over to the side of the road.
 |
| HAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHA. |
"Hiiiii" I said to the lady/man (wasn't sure at first). Her/his white Nisson Sentra looked like it was just about to sneeze, nose all scrunched up, ahh ahhh ahhh—but no final "achoo". A permanent state of sneezy nose tickle.
"You okay?" he/she asked. Still not 100% clear from the voice, but I was leaning toward woman.
"Yeah, I'm fine. You?"
"Yeah."
"Welllll....since you rear-ended me, I think that means it's your fault?"
I held my breath.
"Yeah, that's right."
Ah, thank goodness. I had remembered correctly. Also, there was no damage to my Dad's truck. This was the best rear-ending I could have asked for. We exchanged insurance information just in case. She (definitely, after a closer look) drove away in her crumpled car and that was the end of that.
Sincerely,
Whiplashed In Kenmore
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