I was in a car accident last night, on the way home after night one of the #queerfail festival. I don’t know what to say about that connection, if a connection even exists at all. I am ok, physically, I think. Sophie, who was in the back seat, is ok, too. And this morning, my sweet little electric blue Prius has a smashed up passenger-side front bumper. The car did her job, just crunching up around the impact when the other car hit us. I don’t even want to go look at her in the daylight, my poor little car. Seven years old, and now her face is all smashed up on one side. She looks a little like Sophie with that snaggle-toothed look she gets. Now I get the pleasure of dealing with insurance to try to pay for the damage to get fixed.
Have you been in a car accident before? This was the first time for me. I was freaked out at the scene, shaking, could barely speak, didn’t know what to say, kept diving into the glove box and center console for little pieces of paper on which to write down bits of information. Other cars drove around us, just trying to get wherever they were going on a Tuesday night.