A few years ago, when we first moved to Indianapolis and were living in a one-bedroom apartment with a dog and belongings that had filled a three-bedroom house, I was unemployed. Sure, I freelanced for the local newspaper’s publication aimed at Gen-X and Y-ers (God, I hated that kind of work), but I was bringing in grocery money, not a real paycheck. Having an unemployed person in a marriage that is used to having two gainfully employed people can be… stressful. We argued a lot. One Saturday morning, we got into an argument, and I went to pull my car out from our carport. The next thing I heard was SMASH. And my front bumper, headlights, corner panel and door were crushed by the pole. 

Of course, because of the aforementioned unemployment issue and the fact that my car was paid off, we had dropped down to liability coverage only, and the resulting many-thousands-of-dollars of damage was financed from our savings account.  That bit the big one, but eventually my husband recovered enough to make jokes about the whole incident. 

Yesterday, I met him for lunch, an unexpected and awesome treat because we work on totally different sides of town. He had a job interview around the corner from my workplace (keepyourfingerscrossedohpleaseohpleaseohplease), and we met at a sports bar/burger joint before he had to head back to his workplace. After an enjoyable meal, we headed down to my car in the parking garage so I could drive him to his car in a different garage and then back to my workplace parking garage. 

As I was pulling out of the parking spot, he made a joke about not hitting any poles, and I immediately took offense. A person makes one mistake, I said with outrage, and she’s branded for life. 

I should have opened my mouth a little wide to accommodate my foot. Because less than five minutes later, as I was pulling into my own parking garage, a little gray Honda piloted by a young woman careened around a corner, forcing me to choose between hitting her head on or sideswiping a pole. 

I chose the pole. And crunched up the side of my new car. Thankfully, a co-worker suggested nail polish remover, which made the crunchiness look a lot better but also forced me to realize that there was, in fact, crunchiness and not just a scratch. The other driver? Did Not Stop. Sarcastic thanks to her. Real thanks go to to my little girl who held the cotton balls and handed me new ones to dip in nail polish remover as I tried to minimize the damage. You rock, Angel Face! (Still no decision on the name, though I’m closer!) 

If I hadn’t had the past history with poles, I think I could have gotten away with just telling my husband, reporting it to insurance and that would be that. But the previous experience means he’s pretty angry with me.  

I think it’s punishment for spending 15 minutes yesterday morning figuring out what our new combined income would be if he got this job and speculating whether or not I could drop down to part time or whether we could have another baby right away. Karma does not like it when you count those chickens first. 

If you enjoy the vehicle mishap stories, visit Jennie… though her mishap was totally not her own fault.

This entry was posted in I'm a mommy, I'm a wife. Bookmark the permalink.

7 Responses to Crunch

  1. Sarah says:

    OHNO! Honey, I am so so so sorry. And karma doesn’t like it when you flee the scene of an accident either, so the little Honda witch will get hers.

    I will totally keep my fingers crossed on hubby’s interview. Maybe the bad karma (the crash) will result in some good karma (the job)!

  2. noodle says:

    I would have chosen the pole too! I’ve had a couple pole crunch experiences — once was when I hit the pole that they put near gas pumps to insure that you don’t hit the pump. The other was when I was going through a fast-food drive thru one day and I overshot the window where I was supposed to pay and they told me to back up to it! Unfortunately, I was young and stupid then, and did what they said, rather than telling them that I would pay at the window I was currently at or not at all.

  3. Jennie says:

    Oh, thank you for the shout out!

    It doesn’t seem like this was your fault AT ALL either. What a stupid woman. And I’m so glad you’re okay and I hope soon enough your crunchy car will be too.

    If you’re a drinking woman, I’ll offer up wishes of margaritas for you. If I lived closer, I’d totally treat you to one. And we could rant about DUMB DRIVERS all night.

  4. rimarama says:

    Who wouldn’t have hit the pole in that situation? Seriously. I would be thinking the same thing as you are about not counting your chickens before they are hatched! I hope your husband gets the job.

    I’m not sure how I feel about the whole kids names on blog thing. I’m using my kid’s nicknames, but I’m not convinced that offers much protection at all, frankly. My kids have kind of weird names, too, so it just makes things easier for the readers who don’t know us personally.

    Here’s hoping karma comes around for the honda chick.

  5. Marlee says:

    I backed into a pole about a week ago, heard the loud crunch, got out and looked and didn’t see anything. I forgot all about it. Then on Sunday we were pulling into the driveway and Hubs saw the dent (I must have looked on the wrong side of the bumper) and for the life of him couldn’t figure out where it came from. He knew that he had the trailor hooked up Saturday it wasn’t there. He said someone must have hit at church Sunday morning. Yeah, church thats it. I am going straight to hell. (I couldn’t blog about it cuase he may have seen it).

  6. Boy that makes me mad. I’m sorry you had to go through all of that. I hope your hubby wasn’t too mad.

  7. Vixen says:

    Totally not your fault. However, I too would have chosen to cover it up 🙂

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