There’s something I neglected to tell you in my last post because, frankly, I believe that dwelling on minor inconveniences in life is as helpful as pouring lemon juice on a paper cut. But I’m very distracted tonight and I thought blogging may help.
The past weekend, in a rainstorm, I was driving down a small hill when the car in front of me stopped short at a yield sign. I hit the brake—and on any other day there would have been no problem—but the combination of the hill and the rain made my car slide in to the SUV in front of me. There was a 2.5 inch scratch on the bumper. It was such a gentle little accident that the officer who showed up just shrugged his shoulders. I heard him radio back to the police department that “yeh, this was extremely minor—nothing to be done here.”
Of course, I was panicked a bit—more worried about the insurance company than anything else. I told the young woman that I would be glad to pay for the scratch to her bumper, rather than go through the insurance. At first, she refused. But the officer advised her to essentially cool it and just let me pay on my own since it was so, so minor. I’ll include a picture of the bumper here.
What really got me fired up was that the girl (she must have been in her early twenties, and driving a brand new car that—forgive me—was more than likely purchased by Mom and Dad) was extremely skeptical that I would pay her. “But how do I know you won’t just take off?” I felt really bummed out to be the object of such bald cynicism. Really makes you feel about as big as a flea. I gave her all my information with the cop looking on.
Anyway, today, the woman emailed me a copy of the autobody’s bill to say that the bumper would cost $1,000. Rather than having the scratch buffed out, she has opted to have the whole bumper replaced. She wants to come pick up the check—made out to her—tomorrow. I was fumbling for an answer, so I said, okay. But I realize now that I should probably take some pains to make sure I’m not being taken advantage of.
Tomorrow, I have a little bit of investigating to do—to see if the estimate is sound. And to figure out whether or not it makes more sense to go through the insurance company. Also, I’ll need to figure out how to pay the autoshop directly, rather than just write her a blank check for a thousand dollars that I don’t have.
Prior to this weekend, three separate people have rear-ended my little, fuel-efficient economy car. Three people—and I let every single one of them go with a smile and a wave (literally). Yes, my car got dinged. But at the end of the day, it’s a car. An object. I saw an opportunity to do some good for another human being on a potentially bad day, and I did it. Not saying I should be sainted.
I’m just saying, Hello? Universe? Don’t I merit some kind of karmic generosity in the situation? (Or perhaps I should say “carmic” generosity?)
LOVE TO READERS: If you have thoughts, please do share them. I don’t imagine this girl is taking advantage of me—and I will certainly do whatever it takes to repair the problem. Just feeling kind of…dehumanized…if that makes any sense.
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