I don’t know what it is, but I have the world’s worst luck when it comes to cars. While I consider myself a fantastic driver (all of you that have driven with me, shut up), and frankly the most competent and skilled parallel parker you will ever meet (it’s true, I could win medals), when it comes to… how do I say this delicately, damaging cars if you will, I suck. Let me take you through a little chronology of said luck:
1993. It all started when I got my driver’s license (Aced it to be clear) and was given the lovely gift of borrowing my grandfather’s 1980 Camaro. While there may have been many boys in high school that found this giant white tank to be cool, as a 16 year old in Beverly Hills, I can assure my girlfriends and I found it to be embarrassing and hideous. It was like a low riding jalopy and had AM only radio. Yah. Not cool. After spinning out in a major intersection just for turning left in the rain, I knew it was time for this beast to be returned to my grandfather and was happy to go back to having to call Shotgun.
1999. Luckily after high school I moved to New York and therefore didn’t need a car, or frankly really drive a car. But when I moved back to Los Angeles and was ready for my first car– my first adult lease, in my name and all, I settled into a nice little Ford Escort. Very first day, first hour really, of having my first adult car. I pulled away from the dealer. Decided I’m an adult, in my adult car and well, I’m gonna have a cigarette (I was fresh out of NYU theater. Smoking was the thing). I light up, feeling fantastic and free and adult in my adult car. Roll down the window more… ZAP. The cigarette goes FLYING in to the back seat of my car… as I’m driving Coldwater Canyon (a curvy, windy, no light, two lane, canyon). Of course, I couldn’t reach the cigarette but was able to watch slowly as it burned a nice big hole in the seat.
2005. I’m married. A true adult by now. The escort is long gone and now, and it’s literally the day I’m turning in my leased Jetta. Moving on to an Infiniti. A real grown up. My Jetta had just come from the shop and gotten some work done (you didn’t think I got a way with a car that was scratch/bashed/missing parts-less did you?). Now it was in perfect condition. An inspector comes to see the car, give me the “ok” to turn it in and move on to my fancy new Infiniti without fees or issues. He gives me the stamp of approval. Two hours later, I take my Jetta for it’s last hurrah (to the bank or an errand or something). I “roll” through a stop sign and BOOM. Am hit by a foreign exchange student with an invalid license and no car insurance. My fault but he’s actually in bigger trouble. $2000 more dollars later, I return my Jetta and move on to the Infiniti.
2007. Infiniti goes to my (ex) husband. I have a mommy car. A Nissan Murano. I love it more than words. My newborn baby is home from the hospital and I feel great in this car…. Until out of nowhere, I’m driving and a rock flies into my window, shattering the windshield as I drive with my baby alone on the 101. No biggie. Glass guys come, replace car. Just a pain.
2007. and a Month. I hit a woman’s car in Target. Don’t remember the details, just remember I did it. Insurance handles it, we get it fixed. I need to be more careful. And maybe only go to Target during off peak hours. And not 15 times a week. (Hello, motherhood).
2010. Murano still alive and kicking. Lease is up in just a month when SLAM. I tap, okay, REAR END an older gentleman and his wife at a stop sign. Bumper very crunched and will need work. Lots of work. It wasn’t necessary to check Facebook at that time. I’ve learned my lesson. For REAL.
2011. Lease has been extended but bumper hasn’t been fixed. Good thing though because as I’m gently reversing/ parallel parking into a spot, a guy opens his door into my car. DING. Right on the passenger side. No problem, insurance insurance insurance. Blah blah blah.
2011. Last week. Murano returned about 2 months ago. I’m now in my brand new car. Only issue with it is you can’t program multiple seat settings and blue tooth sort of sucks. Other than that, happy as a clam. UNTIL… I’m just about to get out of the car, I reach for my purse and take one last look at work email so I can go into the house and focus one hundred and percent on Jonah, and WHACK! A Range Rover comes barreling down the street and virtually takes off my door. The car, with a door that won’t close, remains on the street that evening, draped with a sheet and a rope saved from a lovely gift I was given and a lame sign. Just perfect, the night before the weekend in the land of Carmageddon…
Fortunately, Carmageddon was overhyped and the streets were amazingly calm and empty. AND my rental car is lovely…. Though I did just realize the hubcap is missing. I swear I didn’t do it. I didn’t. I think… Wait… Um…
FILED UNDER: A Little Life
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