Typical. Just days before renewing my driver's licence, I get into a smash-up.
There I was minding my own business, leisurely motoring home from work ... Tra La, La, La, La. Turning the curve on our tres icy road, I realized only too late a collision was imminent. Slamming on the brakes proved futile; all I could do was hang on for dear life as my trusty Caravan slid out of control on the hockey rink we call a street.
Crap! Crap! Crap!
Twisted metal and plastic flew. I just sat dumbfounded and began to shake.
Ackkk! I got out and surveyed the scene, prying out pieces wedged underneath my front end. Luckily, upon inspection my van didn't incur any damage.
But I sure as heck demolished the black late model that happened to be sitting in the middle of the street:
Who the hell puts a STEREO in the middle of the frickin' street????
Oh yeah. My idiot neighbors. Three days after garbage day. I was so pissed that I threw what was left of it up on the sidewalk.
Good thing I don't have to place an accident report. I can just imagine the conversation:
"Okay ma'am, what was the make and model of the one you hit?" The officer would ask.
"Ummm. A black Sony. Don't know the year, but it must have been an older make as it still had a tape deck."
"Did you say SONY?"
"Uh huh. Large model, a quad with quite the sound system, at least in its day."
"Uh ma'am, I don't believe Sony makes vehicles."
"Oh I know that. I hit a home stereo. In the middle of our street. Smashed it to bits too. It is now an Ex-Stereo."
Yeah. So that's when the breathalyzer would have been pulled out...
All hubby could say when I regaled him with my incident was "Sony eh? Maybe the speakers were still good!"
Not any more hon.
Not any more.
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