Last WednesdayMinor fender-bender while driving in to work. Pulled out from stopped line of traffic toward left-hand turn lane. SUV roars ahead of me, right out of my blind spot, and the corner of my bumper crunches right into his rear tire.
Damages: Inconsequential scrapes to his hubcap; badly scratched paint on my bumper; one broken turn signal cover (~$20). Didn't bother to mention it on my journal because, well, wasn't writing at the time, and it didn't seem all that consequential afterward.
Saturday nightCar gets egged.
Damages: As it turns out, I caught it before the egg had a chance to set in on the paint, and then washed the car again the next day; no permanent exterior harm. The steering wheel, dashboard, and inside of windshield were all plastered, and it took a good two hours of late-night scrubbing to remove the worst of it. Some probably gooped inside the ventilation system. The car still smells like omelet, and I need to go over the interior again with some proper cleaner to see if I can scrub the stains out.
TodayOn my way to work, I glance down while approaching a (green) stoplight. I look up and the light has turned yellow and the car directly in front of me has come to a stop. I slam on the brakes to no avail, and (while the light is still yellow) whack the bumper of ... wait for it ... a shiny black Mercedes-Benz with a fragile-looking, easily panicked older woman behind the wheel. Even before pulling off to the side of the road to clear out the intersection she has called 911 on her cell phone and summoned the CHP.
Damages: An hour late for work due to having to wait for cops rather than just exchange insurance information. Her car: Cosmetic damage to trunk area, which, since it's a Mercedes, is probably going to cost like $1500 and consequently raise my insurance rates. My car: A few dents I'm not going to do anything about, and a cracked cover on the headlight next to the already broken turn signal.
I have had a total of four traffic accidents (three of which were fender-benders) in my 11 years of driving. Two of them have now occurred within the last seven days. This is doing very little to ease my crankypants mood of late.
... On the other hand, I think I've figured it out. I am a gas tank and a half from 200,000 miles. Westley is sending increasingly strong messages that it plans to prevent the odometer from rolling over. "I HAVE REACHED THE END OF MY SERVICE LIFETIME! GO OUT AND BUY A BUICK!"