"How was your weekend?"
That phrase is pretty much the stuff of which all Monday mornings are made, around the office. And though I don't usually have any earth-shattering weekend stories to share, today I actually did have a good one of the glass-shattering variety.
I'll spare everyone the sordid blow-by-blow details, but somehow (and I really have absolutely no idea how) I went out for a Sunday jaunt in the Hoopty-Honda yesterday and wound up jumping a curb and plowing into and over a neighbor's mailbox. And when I say neighbor, I mean the house directly across the street from my next-door neighbor. We're talking neighbors (don't ask me how I possibly got up enough speed to cause this level of destruction... I guess I've not been giving ol' Hoopty her due). But that whole thing about accidents occurring close to home? I found out it's true. And though I've lived in my neighborhood for almost two years, I hadn't met these nice folks yet... frankly, I don't really recommend mailbox annihilation as a means of introduction.
The whole thing happened in the nano-blink of an eye. And by the time I'd gotten down the street far enough to get my wits about me and turn the ol' Hoopty around, the addressees of said mailbox had already heard the loud ka-boom and come running outside to investigate the origin of the ruckus. What they found was a mailbox post unbolted from the concrete below, the box completely ripped off the post (impact with a windshield will do that), and about a 20-gallon stone planter with its potting soil and flowers strewn across the driveway. Remember that scene in Back to the Future where Biff and his friends run into the manure truck and get covered? It was kind of like that-- but with dirt instead of poo. It was an Extreme Curbside Makeover of magnificent splendor. And the precise dollar value of this splendor is still TBD. So far, I have horked up $700 for a new cast aluminum mailbox that adheres to our neighborhood covenants, and that doesn't count the cost of repair to the Hoopty. Which is a whole blog unto itself... because let's be honest: Hoopty probably isn't worth $1,800 from bumper to bumper. So I'll be Biff'd if I'm going to pour that much into sprucing her up. I think she's just going to have to be uglier than normal for the rest of her natural life.
Here's a little "before and after" for your viewing pleasure...
That phrase is pretty much the stuff of which all Monday mornings are made, around the office. And though I don't usually have any earth-shattering weekend stories to share, today I actually did have a good one of the glass-shattering variety.
I'll spare everyone the sordid blow-by-blow details, but somehow (and I really have absolutely no idea how) I went out for a Sunday jaunt in the Hoopty-Honda yesterday and wound up jumping a curb and plowing into and over a neighbor's mailbox. And when I say neighbor, I mean the house directly across the street from my next-door neighbor. We're talking neighbors (don't ask me how I possibly got up enough speed to cause this level of destruction... I guess I've not been giving ol' Hoopty her due). But that whole thing about accidents occurring close to home? I found out it's true. And though I've lived in my neighborhood for almost two years, I hadn't met these nice folks yet... frankly, I don't really recommend mailbox annihilation as a means of introduction.
The whole thing happened in the nano-blink of an eye. And by the time I'd gotten down the street far enough to get my wits about me and turn the ol' Hoopty around, the addressees of said mailbox had already heard the loud ka-boom and come running outside to investigate the origin of the ruckus. What they found was a mailbox post unbolted from the concrete below, the box completely ripped off the post (impact with a windshield will do that), and about a 20-gallon stone planter with its potting soil and flowers strewn across the driveway. Remember that scene in Back to the Future where Biff and his friends run into the manure truck and get covered? It was kind of like that-- but with dirt instead of poo. It was an Extreme Curbside Makeover of magnificent splendor. And the precise dollar value of this splendor is still TBD. So far, I have horked up $700 for a new cast aluminum mailbox that adheres to our neighborhood covenants, and that doesn't count the cost of repair to the Hoopty. Which is a whole blog unto itself... because let's be honest: Hoopty probably isn't worth $1,800 from bumper to bumper. So I'll be Biff'd if I'm going to pour that much into sprucing her up. I think she's just going to have to be uglier than normal for the rest of her natural life.
Here's a little "before and after" for your viewing pleasure...
And if you're wondering how Hoopty fared...
I know, she was a real beaut before. But I think the busted windshield, scratched front fender and demolished mirror add to the old girl's swagger.
As Brittnee so eloquently put it "She has street cred now."
In fact, I've driven her to two different places since the incident... and so far I'm two for two with queries about her demise. Hail and flying baseballs are the front-runners thus far. But nope, I just smile with pride and tell them it was all me. Well, all me... with a little help from a USPS-certified mail receptacle. I think we really delivered. Don't you?
2 comments:
My co-worker just asked me if I was going to be okay because I'm laughing so hard right now. Thanks for a little comic relief. Sorry about Hoopty!
poor Honda, best cars ever! Was there any other sorid parts of the story, if not can you make up some? simple inattention seems to be insufficient for such glorious damage!
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