I was involved in a fender bender. Actually my car was fender bender-ed. Accident, really nearly all the time cars crash it is an accident. That’s what the officer said, “That’s why they call ‘em accidents.” He was right. It was an accident. But! Oh such a loud and rear ended “but.” After the initial bump and grind, well that’s when the fireworks started. First let me tell you the incident was not my fault. I could string you along until I would tell you that after about an hour or so the wonderful officer finally told the other driver she was at fault and cited her. But this story will be more pointed if you know that it was her who hit me and not me who hit her. The fact that there was a crash is important, but it isn’t the story. I want to talk about what occurred afterwards. When the two drivers met. Me and what I will call, “that woman.” Blah, blah, blah and then she hit the left rear of my car and slid me over. So I pulled to the side of the street. You know like I was taught to do. Then I jumped out and she also pulled over and jumped out and I asked if she was all right. Oh my stars. It was at that moment that I knew I was in trouble. She let off with a line of adjectives that. Well I have lived in Nevada for my life and have been around some pretty wild Nevada times. But some of the words I heard for the next couple of hours were new even to me! That’s what I want to talk about. The actions we take in circumstances we find ourselves in. I knew it was an accident. Oh I was upset, come on it was my cute little red car that I love as much as if it were a member of my family. And her name is Ruby. I knew Ruby would be fixed. I have insurance. I hoped “that woman” also had insurance for her car. Then she started to spout off again about my fault and the words she called me continued to fall out of her mouth. I cannot express fully enough to you the words I heard. I think my face is still red. Like a little girl who listens to stuff through the back door of a biker bar! No offense to bikers. I called the non-emergency police and was told Reno Police do not respond to these types of accidents. I understand that. Nobody was hurt, no fluids running out of the still-drivable cars. The rules are to exchange information with “that woman” and then file a report online. Which I was all for doing. Albeit I was thinking, “Man I am going to end up on Judge Judy with this woman.” Time passed and we finally moved our cars off the street and met at the parking lot we crashed in front of. When we met there I had my information out and was ready to follow the rules that had been explained to me over the phone with the police department. Judge Judy not far out of my mind. Yikes. All the time “that woman” was calling both her insurance company and what I am supposing was a family member who was also hollering on the phone about taking pictures and getting all my information. You know I was jelly inside but the longer “that woman” carried on and the louder she got the quieter I became. If you know anything about me, quiet is not me. Oh I can talk to beat the band. The longer she went on though, the quieter I got. That was my saving grace because … Apparently someone in the store we crashed in front of had seen the whole thing and had called the police. Because as I was standing at “that woman’s” car with my insurance card and license in my hand to do the information exchange, and the words were still coming at me in droves, I happened to turn around and Lord, thank you, the best thing happened. Like a blue angel there was this tall handsome officer standing behind me. And I melted. Trina Machacek lives in Eureka. She has two books available online or email her at itybytrina@yahoo.com to buy signed copies.
