Rain, sharp turn, tree.
A car accident can be that easy!
That's what happened to me a few days ago... and that's why I don't have a car anymore.
Actually, I was quite fond of my eleven-year-old, rusty, wheezy Polo, that scared cyclists with its farm tractor-like clatter...
My clapped out Polo, whose dents and scratches I used to fix with blue nail varnish and a little brush.
My old banger, whose back seat covering was frayed, because my brother used to chew its edges when he was a baby.
My noisy jalopy, whose trunk smelled as rotten grease, and I never understood why.
My old rusty friend, whose engine compartment was - I swear, I swear! - the nest of a little field mouse, that used to pile up hazelnuts under the battery case (what a lot of laughter me and my parents had, when we found out what the strange ticking noise into the engine was: nuts knocking one into the other!).
But this Monday morning was raining, at the time I was going to work; the street I usually travel on is narrow and quite uneven - but it's shorter than the others.
I drove on it a thousand times, at least.
But this Monday, I sheered too abruptly to avoid a pick-up coming towards me, my car went into a skid on the wet asphalt, and the next thing I remember was the bang and the sickening smell of the air bag exploding.
I did it all by myself, actually.
My first thought was, I swear, "Where are my glasses? Oh, no, I've just bought them, they're new!", and the second was "How can I be that stupid? I can't believe it!"
For me, just a few bruises and tons of irritation towards my foolishness and the inanity of the whole thing. For my car, a journey to the junkyard.
Every cloud has a silver lining, though. I will finally have a new car - well, at least, a newer car.
I rediscovered the pleasure of taking a bus and sleep all the way to my office.
And, because of the bus' timetable, that does not coincide with my work schedule, I have a free hour to spend at the library - where I found out there's a section all devoted to the history of fashion.
Today I spent my free hour enjoying an amazing picture book on Italian fashion of the 50s and 60s.
I think my next posts will be devoted to my next finds in the public library...
PS: just a silly thing. Being involved in a car accident in an elegant, well-combed, feminine outfit can be pretty useful.
At least ten people stopped to ask me if they could help me in any way. A man called a tow truck for me. Another lent me his umbrella. Five guys tried to help me move my car from the street to a courtyard.
I'm not sure that would have happened if I had tousled hair and no makeup on! :)
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