Wrecked the car yesterday.
Rather stupidly made a left turn into a very tight gateway – actually, I was aiming for the gateway, but what I in actual fact drove into was the pillar. Anyone who’s ever done this is bound to identify with the lurching feeling in my stomach accompanying the sickening, painfully slow ”crrrrrrrrrrrrunnnnnchhhhhh” noise that announced my car’s agony. I was crushed. Not as crushed as the back passenger side door, mind you.
In the midst of my heartbreak (I’ve had the car for all of 2 months – never had as much as a scrape on the old one. Typical.), I’ve also realised how disadvantaged single women are at times like this. I have not got a clue who to take it to, how much to expect to pay, who’ll be genuine and who’ll rip me off… I am at the mercy of my male friends, who seem to instinctively know about these matters. All I can do is hope that one of them takes pity on me, asks for the keys, takes the poor thing away, and returns it looking all shiny and new again. Not one of them is obliged to do anything of the sort, of course, as their responsiblity for women in their lives ends with their own wives. I’m a spare part, clueless, fending for myself and hoping someone will be kind.
Very annoyed about the whole thing, actually.
So is that it or are you going to keep blogging on?
Just wondering.