I apologize for this being unrelated to my wedding, but I need to vent and I can't flippin' believe what just happened to me:
I decide to go spend half my pay check (not really half, maybe an eighth) at Whole Foods. I wanted some specialty items and felt I deserved a treat. I rarely go to Whole Foods (my heart belongs to Trader Joe's).
On the way home,at a red light, I need to dictate a text to my girl, Diana. (Dictating is safer than texting-and-driving, don't tell me it's the same thing!). Oddly I see her walking her dog as I am dictating the text. I put my phone down because traffic is bad on this one-way, one-lane side street. Not even a minute later I approach stop-and-go-traffic. My phone is safely away, no distractions.
I looked down.
I can't even remember why I looked down or what I looked at, but I did.
I looked up.
I slam on my breaks.
I rear-end the 2000 Carola in front of me, hard enough to make a loud noise.
Hard enough to make me shake with guilt.
The guy two cars in front of me gets out to check his car.
I'm cursing in my head.
The guy in front of me puts on his blinker to pull over.
I'm cursing out loud.
Luckily, both our cars are old and already look like 5 SUV's decided to have their way with them. The man whose car I hit is older and has an pleasant accent. He's really nice, as nice as one person can be whose car was just hit by yours truly. He doesn't want to involve the police. (I start wondering if he's a spy. It's DC and there are spies everywhere. It could happen.)
We exchange insurance information and move on.
It could be worse, I tell myself.
I am fine, safe, as is the other driver.
The cars seems fine too.
As I drive off OH-SO-CAREFULLY I even resist the urge to dictate a text to my fiancee. I resist the urge to call my insurance company to fess up, yet. I get near home, except I can't get near my house.
A three block radius is closing off all streets near my house.
I have groceries to get inside.
I start cursing again.
This just frustrates me to no end.
Then I start beeping my horn because the car in front of me is backing up.
I honk louder and more urgently. Then the lovely car in front of me backs up into my car, just as hard as I recently hit the guy prior. I'm not kidding.
My car jolts.
The bicyclist that saw this happen asks me to roll down my window and tells me she'll stand as a witness if I want to report this.
I say no, just no, as I watch the car that backed-up into my bumper forcefully drive off without saying a word to me. How would my insurance company like that if I call to report two accident claims within twenty minutes of each other? We're leaving that one alone.
I'm still cursing, here.
I finally find a parking spot, 2 blocks away, and walk home in the rain carrying my groceries.
I didn't make dinner, as planned.
I called my parents and cried, and they told me it was ok.
It's nice to hear "it's ok" when you feel like it's not.
Bad things happen in three's - so I'm safe for awhile.
(I bet my work-friends are going to make fun of me for blogging about this and tease me for keeping record of every little thing. If they don't watch out, I might blog about them breathing. Or my car might find the way to theirs. just kidding. maybe.)