The Kirby Curse?

This morning, I got up, got dressed, dropped the boy off at school and went to the drugstore to pick up some prescriptions. Then I headed for work.

I turned right onto Pensacola Street and headed towards the University when I saw a little white truck come rushing up to the intersection. That happens a lot around here... people speed right up to the stop sign and slam on their brakes. Like that makes them cool or something. Mostly, it makes me wonder if they're gonna stop. I just had time to think, "I hate it when they do that," when she did something I hate even more. She slammed into my car.

At that last split second, I realized that she WASN'T going to stop, put on the brakes and tried to veer away from her. She also realized she was about to hit, stomped her own brakes and tried to turn away from me. The result was a rather violent crash, but not as bad as it could have been. We landed side by side on the lawn of the Civic Center.

I even managed to avoid hitting the bench there on the sidewalk.

We sat there a moment, shaking. I turned off the car but couldn't get out. She rolled down her window and asked if I was okay.

After a moment, I nodded. Shaken but not stirred. I opened my door and got out. She opened her door and got out. The cars were definitely much worse off than we were.

We shook our heads in amazement. Not a scratch on us. Her ankle hurt a little but she was walking on it. My elbow hit the door, but didn't seem to be injured. We called the police and our insurance companies. I called Darling Man and my brother Jerry.

The police came, took down information and cited the other driver with failure to yield. Jerry hooked my poor little car to his tow truck after Darling Man emptied my car. I sat on a curb in the shade and talked to more insurance people and began stiffening up. After major effort to get up off the curb, I told the police I was going to go get checked out because everything was starting to ache. But not emergency achiness, just the kind that comes from having your whole body violently jostled. I called my own doctor and I made an appointment to come in at 3pm.

The accident happened at 9:20am. We finally left the scene at nearly 11. Lunchtime! Jerry said to follow him - he knew just the right place for lunch. So we did.

The right place turned out to be a little trailer sitting in the parking lot of "Dream Puppies" that served gigantic hamburgers, marvelous pulled pork, and various barbecue items. As I looked at the poster-board menu, my eyes landed on Frito Pie. Holy moley... I couldn't even remember the last time I had Frito Pie. No one does it anymore. But this guy did! That's what I had.

Jerry had the Giant Hamburger and Darling Man had a pulled pork sandwich and they threw in a rib. In fact, Dave kept coming out with little cups of samples of things like smoked vegetables and chicken and dumplings. It was all delicious! We bought Jerry lunch - a little thank you for being there to rescue me yet again. It doesn't happen often, but when he comes riding in, I really need the rescue.

Thanks, Jerry. Sorry about the closed eyes. I couldn't really see when I took this picture.

After lunch, we headed for the body shop. And on the way, Darling Man asked if I thought the Kirby was cursed.

What????

Well... We got this vaccum cleaner just before ZBoy was born. After Z was a few months old, I started cleaning houses, using my marvelous Kirby vaccum. When Z was nine months old, I was on my way to pick him up after spending the day cleaning someone's house when a teenager ploughed into the back of my car doing about 40. He'd been playing with his stereo. The Kirby went flying out the back window. Bits and attachments scattered over the road and into the grass.

The Kirby was a bit wonky after that. It was banished to the shed in favor of a more lightweight machine that I could push around (I was hurt pretty badly in that wreck). When we moved, it lived in the carport. Untouched. Unloved. But I couldn't just get rid of it - the darned thing was too expensive to just chuck out.

It moved again and lived in the garage until last week, when I pulled it out, cleaned it up and used it to get ready for Easter dinner because I didn't have any bags for the other vaccum.

And then this accident. Sigh.

The guilty party

I went to the doctor who checked me out, found no serious damage, but did admit that I was in for a lot of muscle pain in the next few days. He prescribed ice, stretching exercises, and vicodin. I love my doctor.

The rest of the day was spent chasing down insurance agents, meeting with the adjuster and picking up the rental car.

It's a Chevy Cobalt. I never even heard of them. I'll probably be driving this thing until May - when I finally get my baby back. It's not a virgin car anymore.... she's been had. But I love her and I want her back. It looks bad, but apparently is fixable. Thank goodness.

Oh, and to add insult to injury? WHen I was sitting on the curb talking to the insurance guys? Ants invaded my pants. And proceeded to bite my ass.

Sheesh.