I got rear ended this morning on southbound 51. Good times. Traffic was as traffic is in Phoenix – a fucking parking lot. I was thinking to myself something stupid like “today would be a good day to get rear-ended… nah, it’ll never happen…” Then came the thud. I looked back in my rear view mirror at a young woman in a white minivan, her eyes wide and mouth hanging agape. I put on my turn signal, and she followed with hers. We worked out way over to the median and got out of our cars. I walked to the rear of my ten year old Oldsmobile and gave my rear bumper a once over. I glanced over at the front of the minivan that hit me, and went back to my bumper. Nothing.
My car looks pretty much as it did before she hit me – like a clapped out piece of domestic shit. As I walked over to her car, she started to say “I only took my foot off the brake for a second…”
I interrupted and asked if she was ok. She said yes. I looked at her and said, “I think we should call this one ‘no harm no foul’.”
“Oh, thank you!”
“No problem. High five.” We slapped hands, turned back to our respective cars, waded out into the heavy stream of traffic and got on with our lives. I’ve got plenty on my plate and I could give a fuck about my bumper in the grand scheme of things. I turned on the radio and what did they play? Motley-Crue’s Shout at the Devil. I choose maximum volume. You should to.
Update: The pic is something that was sent to me last night via text message on my phone. I saw it, and it made me happy. So I posted it with this little story. Seemed to fit.by