“Any fool can have bad luck; the art consists in knowing how to exploit it.”
– Frank Wedekind
Ok, so you know those people, right? The ones who seem to have everything going for them. Who seem to skate through life with no noteworthy negativity [How do you like that alliteration??]. Everything just seems to go their way without them even having to lift a finger. *sigh* Must be nice. As some of my graceful, elegant family members used to describe it, “They walk around like they have a horseshoe stuck up their butt.”
(Ok, maybe “butt” wasn’t exactly their choice of words…but I digress…)
Well, me? Yeah, I am NOT one of those people. Especially when it comes to vehicles. While those people get to have horseshoes stuck up there, I apparently have an albatross that climbs up mine every time I get behind the wheel of a vehicle.
Now, maybe blaming it on luck isn’t exactly fair. I’m sure some of it may have to do with my own carelessness. Maybe. But seriously, a lot of it just really isn’t my fault. Really.
Let’s look at the past five months, shall we?
Some of my regular followers may remember that I had an accident back in April. I totaled my car. (Missed that blog? Want the gruesome details? Click here.)
[Ugh…ok, I’m lying. There aren’t any ‘gruesome’ details. That was just a shameless plug of an old blog to get you to read it. I’m a jerk…]
So, I totaled my car. And that sucked. Yes, I guess you could say that was my ‘fault’ (at least my new insurance premium screams that loud and clear), but in my defense, a freak, unexpected winter storm hit us out of the blue while I was on the road. A new layer of snow on a curvy road doesn’t make for the most favorable road conditions. So, fault or no fault, I guess you could say a little bad luck was at play. That is, if you believe in that kind of thing. I call my boyfriend Richard and he comes and picks my car-less self up and takes me home to take care of me. (Awww.)
So, fast forward a few days. I finally feel able to drive again. (Now, nothing was all that wrong physically, mind you, other than my slight concussion – it was more of a mental barrier to wanting to drive again after flipping down a rocky bank…) That sweet, wonderful boyfriend of mine and his generous mom offer me a spare family vehicle to drive until I get the insurance stuff straightened out and get another car of my own, and I gratefully accept their offer.
So, here we go. Vehicle #2.
The *first* day I get behind the wheel of this borrowed car to drive to work, I’m about ten miles from home and out of nowhere comes a turkey. Yes, a turkey.
[**Note. This is not the actual turkey. But this is an accurate portrayal of the look that was on the little jerk’s face as he barreled towards me.]
He side swipes me and…rips off the driver’s side mirror.
Are you freakin kidding me??
Yep. A turkey just tore up my borrowed vehicle. So, of course I make what I feel like is the hardest call I’ve ever had to make to Richard and, through my tears, ‘fess up. And what does he do? Laughs. A lot. It’s not funny!! I borrow a vehicle and break it in the first ten minutes! How is that funny?? Still. He laughs.
Oh, he thinks that’s funny, huh? Let’s fast forward another two weeks. Really. Two tiny little weeks later, I’m driving along in the same borrowed car, now complete with a brand new driver’s side mirror, and what happens? I turn the wheel to the left going around a curve and…ready for this?…it FALLS OFF. I’m not exaggerating!! Ok, I’m exaggerating a little bit. It didn’t completely come off. But it fell over. Apparently this is known as a tie rod end breaking. Call it what you want, but I call it “Oh crap!” (And again, maybe crap wasn’t the actual word being used, but no point in digressing yet again…)
So, here comes call #3 to Richard. (If you’re keeping track, call #1 was totaling my own car. Call #2 was the turkey. And now call #3 is telling him his wheel fell off. And this is all within a matter of 2-3 weeks. *sigh*) He didn’t laugh as much this time. But he did have to come get me. Again.
Well, after some pretty hefty repair work and Richard driving me to work every day in the interim, I manage to drive his car for a few more weeks without anything else falling off. And eventually I am even finally able to get the insurance mess worked out and get a car of my very own. Yay! After the first few days of a random ‘check engine’ light malfunction (don’t EVEN tell me there’s no such thing as bad luck…), the dealership got everything taken care of and all was well. Smooth sailing with Vehicle #3…
Trash pickup day.
Now, most of you know I am a runner. I just ran 8+ miles yesterday while working my way up to my second half marathon in November. You read that, right? I ran EIGHT miles yesterday. But you know what I apparently can’t do? Walk my trash down to the end of my driveway. Ugh. It’s sooooo far. (Read that with your internal whiny voice, because that’s exactly how I just said it.) Nope. That 100-foot walk to the end of my driveway is apparently too much for this chick. Instead, I feel the need to drive it down and drop it off as I leave for work. And, well, it’s a bag. Of trash. I don’t want to put that nasty thing in my cute little car. Gross. So, what do I do?
I leave my driver’s side door propped open and back down the driveway holding the bag of trash out of the car. You with me? You got the mental image? You see me backing down a slight declined driveway holding a bag of trash out of my door? Ok, now picture a huge mound of dirt that I forgot was there. And then picture my drivers side door catching on that mound of dirt. Picture me not noticing and continuing to back down the driveway…and picture my door bending BACKWARDS and practically breaking completely off.
Call #4. “Richard? Um. I just broke my door off of my car…”
Goodbye, Goldie Sue. (It’s a gold Subaru. Isn’t that name clever? Yeah, like that matters to this story…)
So, here we are again. Richard had to come and get me and take me to the same borrowed vehicle from before and once again save the day by giving me something to drive to work until I get mine repaired.
Story should end there, huh?
Oh no. Not for Melissa.
On the way home today, the passenger side mirror on the borrowed vehicle that had been just a tad loose all along, decided to go ahead and snap all the way off. Of course it happens while I’m driving it.
Call #5. “Um, Richard? You know that mirror that was loose? It just broke off. But it’s NOT MY FAULT….”
I’m betting not many of you are going to want to ride with me after reading this blog, huh? Well, join the club.
Hey, at least I have one living creature that will still come along for the ride…
Bless her heart.
Well, there you have it. Confessions of a Bad Driver, Volume One. I’m sure there will be plenty more to come….
Hey, if you can’t laugh at yourself, what can you do? You know? Yes, I have some seriously bad luck when it comes to vehicles. That albatross has apparently found a nice comfy home.
But you know what? That bad luck only applies to vehicles. Because look at the rest of my life. Look at this story alone. I have a wonderful, patient man who is always there to help me pick up the crazy pieces of my chaotic life and calmly put them all back together. I walked away from a totaled car with barely a scratch, I have a cute little dog (ok, it’s the neighbor’s but she doesn’t realize that) who loves to go along on car rides with me, and I have wonderful readers who read this blog and come along on this crazy ride and laugh right along with the silly happenings of my never-a-dull-moment life.
Maybe I’m actually a pretty lucky lady after all.
Well. That is, if you believe in that kind of thing…
“Not many people have had as much bad luck as I have, but not many people have had as much good luck, either.”
– Tig Notaro