Hi guys! Happy August!
I’ve finished my summer class, and now i’m packing for a mini vacation to the beach. Besides that, nothing really super exciting has happened since last week. So I’m going to tell you the story about the time I hit a building– yep, with my car.
What I called, “slightly bumping into [a building]” others referred to as, “smashing into [the building]”.
I like my phrasing better.
One bright and sunshiney day in 2014, I was told to take my sister to gymnastics. No big deal; I had done it many times, and I got my license over a year before this. We got in my car and drove to the gym. The place she was going to at the time was not too far from my house and my sister’s friends went there too.
I saw some other cars do U-turns to drop their future Olympians off, and thought, “Well that’s a really good idea. I can definitely do that too.”
I was wrong.
I pulled behind a car and followed their movements until I got to the turn, that’s where things did not go as I planned. I thought it was going to be close, but I was sure I could make it so I decided to turn really tight to the left and hope for the best. Less than five seconds later, I heard a very loud crushing noise coming from in front of my car– the gym was metal– and a few ugly words slipped from my mouth. My sister and I were both crying at this point.
Thankfully, a family friend was there to calm me down and assure me my parents weren’t going to kill me because this was my first (and only) accident. We sent my sister inside to go to practice. I called my dad first and our phone conversation went something like this:
Me: “Daddy. . . (in between sobs) I hit a building.”
Dad: “You hit a what?!”
Me: “A building. . .”
Dad: ” . . .how did you do that? Moving forward or backward?”
Me: “Forward.” more crying
Dad: probably holding back laughter “. . . .Did you hurt anyone?”
Me: “No.” (still crying)
Dad: “Okay good. Let me talk to whoever is there with you.”
By that point, I handed the phone over. The gym’s owner had made her way outside probably to see why her building just produced a sound that was similar to a Coke can being stepped on. She knew me and my family so I proceeded apologize about a thousand times; I probably sounded like a broken record and a leaky faucet, thanks to all the crying. She assured me that it was okay, it could have happened to anyone– she lied. It takes a special kind of incoordination to hit a building moving forward and I’ve accepted that– and that she would get it fixed. I looked at car, only a few scratches and some messed up paint.
The owner spoke to my parents shortly after the incident, the one sheet of metal I damaged was replaced and a new addition was added to the parking lot by the next week when I dropped my sister off again.
Needless to say, I park when I take her to gymnastics practice now and I will never live this story down.
Word of advice: Make sure you can make u-turns.
Have a great week!
What’s your funniest driving accident?