Prologue — If TL/DR, I most certainly understand… pox on yours truly, if so…
Apologies in advance for venting, Buckeye Brothers, but I, or should I say, my vehicle, was a victim of a hit-and-run last night.
I stopped at a Sam’s Club (incredible place, BTW) to do some much-needed grocery shopping. All went well and was uneventful (though I spent way too much money — $210 — … as a bachelor, I don’t have a plethora of tastes, so I tend to purchase what I like in bulk, thereby limiting the number of sojourns that are necessary — for example, grabbing the 48-roll package of TP and the 24-roll pack of paper towels). Shook the hand and thanked three veterans sitting by the exit on the way out, dropped a few bucks in the bucket hanging under the red tripod for the Salvation Army and thanked the older gentleman ringing the bell and made my way through the horizontal-flying white stuff whipping through the air.
Reached my chariot and then unloaded my cart into the back.
So far, so good.
Then, my cell dinged. My sister asked since I was already at the store (I had texted her before entering and asked if she needed/wanted anything, which she said she did not) if I could pick up some Chinette for a Christmas bash she is hosting Saturday night.
Faced with a decision — put off responding to the text and head for the homestead or get back out of my just-started-and-beginning-to-warm Trail Blazer or answer her, get out and take on Mother Nature and make the 30-yard trek back into the store to pick up her %)*&^% Chinette — which, it being “the most wonderful time of the year” and me, of course, being the loving, caring older brother I am (please note, definitely sarcasm), there was no choice.
Fast forward, went back in, grabbed the Chinette, rethanked the veterans, dropped another buck in the Salvation Army kettle and headed back to the vehicle.
Wait, something’s wrong… the tail end is now at a bit of a different angle than it was when I had unloaded my cart 10 minutes previous.
Then, I notice — driver’s-side tail light is busted, plastic pieces of the cover and the glass of the three bulbs all over the snow-covered pavement.
Admittedly shocked and running more than a bit hot, I give the rest of the vehicle a quick once over and, lo and behold, the passenger-side portion of the front (plastic) bumper has a big crack in it, which loosened the entire headlight housing as well.
Apparently, someone’s car had slid into the back of my vehicle, busting the tail light and pushed the front end into the concrete separation barrier, cracking the front bumper and damaging the headlight housing… and hot-footed it out of there.
So, in summary, if I don’t take the time to thank the veterans or donate to the Salvation Army, or to answer the call for my sister to grab her %)*&^% Chinette, or thank the veterans again, or drop another shilling into the Salvation Army… the crash, damage and dash probably doesn’t happen.
Merry Christmas to me.
Or… I could have been standing at the back of my chariot, unloading my cart and the crash could’ve broken my legs, if not worse — I had been standing exactly in front of the now-busted tail light when I was unloading my cart 10 minutes previous.
I’ll choose to opt for the latter… after all, it is indeed the most wonderful time of the year.
Much appreciation for enduring my pity-party, Buckeye Brothers… eff *ichigan.
Epilogue — Searching the web, just ordered replacement parts for the tail light ($35) and bumper ($125) — I’m choosing to consider myself fortunate… and blessed.
