Though you wouldn’t know it by looking at my car, the fact is: I’m a very good driver.
I know, I know – everyone thinks that. Just like everyone thinks they have a great sense of humor and a good sense of style. And that can’t POSSIBLY be true for everyone (though, in my case, they totally are!).
You may dispute that, given the scrapes on either side of my front bumper. You see, I have a teeny problem with parking ramps. They’re notoriously poorly lit, and have massive concrete columns so very, very close to the yellow lines. And, worst of all, WHY do they never paint the columns? Obstacles in the very same color as the foreground and background are just asking for trouble.
But, really, the statistics back me up on this one. I haven’t had a speeding ticket in at least ten years (did I just say ten years? God, I’m old). I can parallel park. I have never caused an accident. . . well, at least not until today.
I was pulling out of a gas station, and watching for an opening. I noticed a runner approaching on the sidewalk to my right, and I decided to back up so she didn’t have to run into the busy street to pass my car. I moved back about a foot and a half, when . . . [thud]. A pick-up truck had magically appeared in my rearview. I swear it hadn’t been there when I shifted into reverse, but whatever.
Luckily, I only dented the woman’s license plate, and she was very kind about it. No insurance exchange or anything. the only scar is on the back of my bumper – just paint, really – and I deserve it. The only thing truly injured was my pride. And I have a store of that to fall back on.
However, my favorite justification of my skillz, the “I’ve never hit another car” thing – that’s out the window now.