SueG: "There will be no telling people on your blog how bad my house is and there will be no pictures."
Right. This, however, is a lead up to my real entry and I only tell it so that people understand my frame of mind. So, let me just say quickly that she and I spent two days working our butts off putting things back in to order and both days we were covered in filth and dust and sweating like we had been outside in the desert all day. The second day after we finished she insisted on us going out to dinner, but I needed to feed my dog and change my shirt and so we agreed I would go home quickly and they would pick me up in a few minutes.
I left her house and as I was climbing into my car I heard a baby crying. From my expertise in child rearing I knew this baby was a newborn, and knowing there was no baby, new or old, next door to SueG I was concerned. Because I watch a lot of television, mainly dramas about crying babies in areas where they aren't suppose to be, and so I was on the job. Along with wearing scrubs and playing a doctor, I'm a private investigator, something that I've longed to be since childhood and Nancy Drew books going so far as to have a detective agency with my neighbor Robby and later in life tracking down a deadbeat who stiffed my mother for money. A crying baby was nothing compared to the cases I've cracked.
Two people next door were climbing into a vehicle at the same time I was climbing into mine, and since I didn't see a baby I figured the infant was already in the car, hopefully strapped into a legal carrier. My main attention was on these people as we both backed out of the driveways at the same time. Plus, I was exhausted, sweaty and covered in layers of dust and dog hair.
Tom: "That's really no excuse. You have a camera on the vehicle."
Some people truly don't understand the meaning of distraction. As I backed out of the driveway, turning my wheel to head in the direction I wanted to go, the other vehicle kept backing up toward me and my attention was focused on them not hitting me. I had checked both sides as I backed out and knew no one was coming in either direction so instead of checking my camera I was focused on the other car. Until I heard a crunch and felt a bump. The kind of bump as in hitting something.
At first I thought I had hit someone. That's my biggest fear ever since a co-worker of Tom's wife hit a person in the parking lot of Target. But as I looked behind me I saw a white car and realized what had happened. For a split second, and I'm not proud to admit this, I will admit to thinking about running, but having seen lots of the aforementioned television dramas I knew most likely I had been spotted either by the car in front of me or nosy neighbors. I cursed, thought about crying, and pulled back into my friend's driveway.
I got out and went up into her neighbor's yard to the front door. By now, SueG and her kids were outside and SueG was suggesting that the damage was minor and perhaps I should ignore it because she was annoyed that these neighbors kept parking behind her driveway even after she and her husband had politely asked them not to do so. I ignored her and rang the doorbell. From inside came loud barking, the kind of low, vicious barking you hear from scary, rip-out-your-throat pitbulls or dobermans. I was shaking some from my altercation and this barking didn't even phase me, although SueG was making "whoa" sounds.
From inside I heard a woman's voice tell the dogs to hush and I waited patiently for her to open the door. That didn't happen. I waited. Nothing. So I rang the bell again and this time there was no barking, no voices, nothing but silence. I assumed the female voice was off locking up the canines and so I waited. And waited.
SueG: "That's it. Leave. Let's go. No one is home."
Having heard a voice from within, I refused, although I did think about it once again. I rang the bell again and when this produced nothing I raised my hands and knocked on the door with my knuckles which made a very authoritative sound on her wooden door and set the dogs barking once again. A voice from behind the door asked who it was and I replied that I had backed into her car. The door opened a slit and half a face peered out at me from a darkened room with a large screened tv playing behind the face.
Neighbor: "Oh, that's not even my car. Hold on."
I backed up and started back down the lawn and the door opened and out came the neighbor, an attractive woman about my age or younger. She told me the car belonged to her son's friend and then made a lot of noises about how she has told the owner to park in her lawn and not on the street. That right there was comical, and I was surprised I didn't laugh at that from hysteria if not from the oddity of it, but I was playing serious and SueG started in about how she has asked them not to park behind her drive.
The woman was very nice and very unconcerned. She kept telling us it was no big deal and that the car was a clunker and that the owner was at the Ray's game and probably wouldn't even care. Meanwhile, SueG and I were looking at the large dent on the passenger's right front end and thinking that the owner most certainly would not be happy, but then SueG asked about the next door neighbor and suddenly the two of them were off and chatting like neighbors despite never having met one another. I was still shaking some and wishing they could get back on topic when the neighbor again said this was no big deal when I offered up my insurance information.
Me: "Let me give you my information."
Neighbor: "That's okay, don't worry about it. This thing has so many dings and dents on it they probably won't even fix it. It's an old car."
SueG: "Well, if they need the information you know where I live. I'll pass on her number if you want it."
I left. I went home and fed and peed the dog. I changed my shirt. I called the husband who was not sympathetic and reminded me of my mother.
Tom: "Why are you calling me? I can't do anything about it."
Me: "I was just informing you."
Tom: "Seriously? You have a camera on the back of the van. How can you hit someone?"
Uh, this is typical Cara. I'm always backing into things. I've backed into Tom's car. I've backed into someone at the library. My famous two backings into things that resulted in damage was a mailbox and a mail truck, and I'm still hearing a lot of postage jokes from those. The damage to my car on this one was minimal in my expert auto body repair opinion. It popped out the back panel on the rear side of my car and I attempted to pop it back in again to no avail. I needed a tool. I left it for another day.
SueG didn't arrive for quite some time and by then I had no appetite. Turns out she and the neighbor talked and talked and agreed to meet for drinks some night. SueG said she got the idea the car belonged to the son's girlfriend and that she wouldn't care about the car. I couldn't let it go. I kept whining and moaning until SueG knocked me up side the head.
SueG: "It was a fender bender. No one was hurt. Or killed. You have insurance. Maybe she won't even want to report it or care. In the scheme of things this was nothing."
It took three days for the owner of the car to contact me and two more days before he contacted my insurance company. I, of course, spent those days worried about how I hadn't taken pictures, how I didn't know the make of the car, how Tom didn't want me to contact our insurance, etc. On and on until finally the GUY, not a girl, contacted me and told me how it was no big deal. We exchanged insurance information and the insurance guy was nice and I have an appointment to get my car fixed this week.
I've let it go. I've decided I'm going to look at it as bringing two neighbors together as SueG has told me how she and the neighbor have chatted since exchanging information regarding jobs, their houses, their children. They're going to get together for vodka cocktails some evening.
SueG: "She has two sons. The one lives with her. I think he works for the post office as a mailman or something."
Of course, he does. So far, my family has not stopped laughing.
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