So, I’m driving to work, minding my own business and this fucking fuck sideswipes me.
Minor damage (about $1,000), but it was on the highway, so I definitely had a case of “shit, you fucking fuck sideswiper, you, this COULD have been a lot worse.”
Now, it seems to me that Mr. Fucking Fuck was going to try to go on about his way like nothing happened, basically because he didn’t try to get over to the right until we tailed him close enough to get his licence fucking plate number. It made sense when we realized we were dealing with Mr. Budget Rent-a-Car.
I basically think he’s an FF because of aforementioned FF-dom and also the fact that he admittedly fell asleep after driving all night. He said this by way of excuse, but he still could have been groggy from his nap so I won’t get too mad that he thought we’d just say, well, geez, you poor thing…no wonder you almost killed us and some other innocent people!
Since I’m more happy to be alive and writing this than fucking mad, I’ll just end by sharing some things I learned:
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I have recently been driving A LOT. As such, I’ve taken to snacking, etc., on the road. If this had been one of those instances where I was stuffing down a Croissanwich, I think it would have been a lot worse. I don’t think I’m being overly dramatic–we were both going about 65 and he almost lost control after we hit. I had both hands on the steering wheel and never left my lane. No more snacking for me.
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Luckily, Mr. Cookie was with me so I got a hands-on accident lesson. The guy wanted to just exchange insurance because he “had patients waiting” but Mr. Cookie insisted we wait for the (fucking) fuzz to get an accident report. Good call – I would not have necessarily known that was a must do since this was my very first accident. Also, we called our insurance right from the scene and got a claim started so the adjuster has already called, etc.
So, that’s fucking all. Over and out.
