Skip to main content

I Didn't Mean To, Really

I wasn't exactly running late for work tonight but I was cutting it close. It's pitch black and cold. Ick. A shadow appeared on the road and I thought it was probably a squirrel. It'll dart back across the road when I get closer. No, the squirrels? They're smart. They hibernate. Or hide. I don't know but I haven't seen them on the road (dead or alive) in a couple weeks. It was a raccoon. Quite possibly the largest raccoon I've ever seen. I hit it.



I seriously was not aiming for it, I even swerved a little bit. I never touched the brakes though and that will probably have Karma on my ass for awhile. Really though, it should have waddled back to the other side. I screamed. It was loud. Then I laughed and almost peed myself. That would've been fun trying to explain that one to my boss.


I hit a deer once on the way to my Gramma's house. Actually, I maintain that the deer was very interested in the color of my dad's car and came a running to get a closer look. My friend that was following me (she had a padiddle and didn't want to get a ticket) stayed with the deer while I went back to the gas station to have them call the deer pick up people or whoever gets called when someone kills Bambi. By the time I got back, the deer was gone. She got up and walked away. Her jaw was demolished but her legs were just fine. I felt so much guilt because I just knew that she couldn't eat and was going to starve. It happened right next to a rural country cemetery. To say I was freaked out would be redundant.

I didn't tell my father for two days. I was terrified I would get in trouble even though it was clearly not my fault at all. Hello? When I did finally tell him, it was over the phone about an hour away from him. I had to take precautions. He was ok about it. He asked if I was ok and why did I want to wreck the car? Oh I don't know dad, sounded like a great plan at the time. Especially since you didn't know I would be going out of town with your car. Yes, I was a thinker. The car was fine, save for the passenger door. My cousin had to climb in ala the Dukes but the garage guys popped it out. They also gave us some touch up paint for the couple chips that were missing. They put it in a nail polish size container so I did what any bored 22 year old would do. I walked around with pretty nails. Yes, that color over there. My dad knew I crazy then.


I hope to never hit a deer full on. It seemed that every car my uncle ever owned was finally taken out of commission by a deer. That poor Bonnie of his. That car was demolished. He finally got his truck though. Maybe he aimed for the buck. Hmmm.

Have you hit a deer? Did you pee yourself? You can tell me. It'll be just between us. Right here. On the blog. I only have 4 readers ya know.

Comments

Les Becker said…
No, but I hit a tree once, over 25 years ago and no one - NO.ONE. in my family will allow me to drive their cars. Ever.
Mandy said…
i have never hit anything... other than like the curb every damn day. haha.

and had i hit something on the way to work... i would have been freakin out and totally called in sick. cindy would understand right...?

Popular posts from this blog

This Has To Be Said

I haven't blogged in 8 months. We bought a house, still unpacking, school started. You know, life. I felt the need, the urgent need to blog about the Adrian Peterson situation today. I am full of all sorts of feelings and had to write about it. I would love to hear your thoughts on this whole thing. No really, I would. I don't feel I was a douchebag in my writing so all I ask is you not be a douchebag in your response. Thanks. My thoughts on the Adrian Peterson situation (but first, some backstory): I was spanked as a child. I'm pretty sure most of us that grew up in the 80s were. Until the summer between 5th and 6th grade I lived in Charelston, SC and from 6th to 11th grade, North Chicaco, IL. I have seen every form of discipline doled out on a child. I've seen spankings, beatings, hairbrushes smacked into heads, spoons hitting the tops of heads, whips, belts and even switches. I've seen it all. Most of you know that my son is named after a little boy who

Trish Needs.......

I did this cause of Suzi, whose page I read religiously - check her out here . I'm going with the top 30 Google responses to "Trish needs" because SO many of them are related to wrestling of which I am a fan but not capable of doing without killing myself and/or the other person (unless it's the husband in bed but we won't go there. No. We won't. His sister reads this! Hi Steph!) I've decided to add commentary where I feel it's needed because, well, because I can. 1. Trish needs to always be in control of the situation and her men (amen to that my friends) 2. Trish needs to get this card off as soon as possible 3. Trish needs to do some serious damage control 4. Trish needs your help (help packing, help mentally, help with laundry, help with Monkey Boy, etc) 5. Trish needs to come to OPS and talk to all counselors & supervisors 6. Trish needs a makeover ( I don't think it's THAT bad!) 7. Trish needs an intervention (I do not have an Oreo pr

This, That and The Other

I can already tell that Thanksgiving and Christmas are going to suck ass even more than it normally would at my job. Last night, a guy was telling me how much he gave me, how much he was supposed to get back and THEN told me what order to give it back to him in. Um? Sir? I'm not a twit, ok, I am a twit, but I'm not an idiot. Ok, sometimes I can be. Like that time I moved up to Wisconsin in the middle of a blizzard from nice, warm Tucson, AZ for a dumb boy and we broke up less than two months later. Yeah that sucked but my point is: I've been in retail, just about every job one could have except store manager, for about oh, 19 years. I think I know what I'm doing when it comes to giving change back. Don't talk to me like I'm a 16 yr old kid who's working his first job and doesn't give a shit what kind of work ethic he has. I care about you as a customer but when you're a dick to me and pissing off everyone in my line so they are dicks to me ? Well,