- December 25, 2024
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An unfortunate car accident may have ruined more than just my fender.
BY EMILY BLACKWOOD | STAFF WRITER
My dream car came in the form of a 1999 Jeep Wrangler. Not only did I fall in love with its soft-top and red body, but its inability to exceed 50 mph made it the perfect match for my, let's just say, careful driving style.
We spent several glorious months together before I got a reality check. My parents sat me down and calmly explained how my vehicle was a reflection of myself to the world. Now I thought that meant I was quirky, cute and cautious. The world apparently saw me as flashy, impractical and insufferably slow.
Driving full force into adulthood. I wasn’t going to get very far maxing out at 50 mph. So I made the switch to my dad’s beautiful — and, OK, still a little flashy — 2008 Ford Mustang. Though I was a little hesitant, I was won over when I witnessed the amount of boys in awe of my sweet ride.
And the fact that I could speed out of the way in situations of life or death came in handy, too. And that skill was tested early.
I crashed it. Like, smashed-into-a-two-week-old-monster-truck crashed it.
The unfortunate event happened over the weekend. I was attempting to make a U-turn on my way to meet someone who had touched Beyoncé’ when I was diagonally T-boned by a truck that could have easily run the 'Stang over.
My car was dented so deep that the only cool way to get out of it was out the window, "Dukes of Hazard" style.
Though the impact wasn’t enough to cause any physical damage to my body (mine, not the car's), the emotional trauma was enough to throw me into hysterics.
The officer was clearly concerned by my waterworks display and repeatedly asked if anything was broken. So I replied, “My reputation.”
Even in times of crisis, I'm still hilarious.
Now, most people who'd come into contact with me that fateful night would probably have run fast in the opposite direction. But, the driver of the other car involved did the opposite. He even offered me coffee, tissues and kindness.
“Don’t cry," he said. "Things break, but you can fix ‘em.”
Even though it wasn’t the crumbling of a fender that caused the tears, I realized there was a much broader truth in my victim’s words.
Things happen. Things break. But you can fix them. And with a little luck, you can still be flashy.
