I"m unloading this confession almost six months after the incident in Westport, CT. My pride is still dented - 20 years of crash-free driving then I’m scuppered in my own driveway because I was distracted.
I’ll say this in my defense: I was stressed out on this particular morning in mid-June. Stressed out and running late.
And so it was that I reversed out of my garage at a fair clip without properly surveying my driveway quite as I should have. What can I tell you? I was on autopilot.
The crunching sound and juddering halt immediately exposed my error of judgment. Yes, I had reversed my trusty Subaru Outback into a contractor’s Dodge Ram 1500 pickup truck which was parked in my driveway. In the contest between an SUV and a pick-up, the SUV always loses. The Outback’s rear was decked in badly; the truck had a very slight crack in a taillight and some tiny bruising in the paintwork.
I would love to say that this was the end of the incident, but – oh no – it gets significantly worse.
After doing a cursory survey of the damage to both vehicles, and hastily yet emphatically apologizing to the contractor, I dashed off to get gas before my scheduled commitment.
At the pump I realized that I hadn’t taken any photos of the damage to my car and, as everyone who has completed Insurance Claims 101 knows, it helps to have pictures.
Oh drat. So I grabbed my iPhone and quickly took some snaps of my mangled rear bumper.
Still running late, I jumped back in the car and zipped onto the Post Road, aka Route 1, aka the busiest road in Westport (not counting the Wacky Races). I’d driven barely 100 yards when I heard something clunk off the back of the car. Oh crap, I thought: a piece of my vehicle has just fallen off.
But I was late, and the road was busy, and I figured that particular slice of well-manufactured Japanese auto plastic was unsalvageable anyway. So I kept on going. (This was a mistake, as you’ll see).
When I parked up at my destination some five minutes later, and went to grab my things, I couldn’t find my wallet.
I’m an idiot. I must have left it at home.
But I just paid for gas….
Which means that….
Oh no, oh no.
IT WAS MY WALLET THAT FELL OFF THE ROOF OF MY CAR.
Yes, dear reader, I had put my wallet on top of my trusty Outback as I pumped the gas and took pictures of the damage inflicted earlier that same morning.
Come back soon for the next installment of Dreadful Driving Mea Culpa or How Stress Makes Anyone a Distracted Driver or Where’s Wallet?