This week we had a gorgeous full moon, and as is often the case with a big full moon, there was also some craziness. I drive a small but loud car. It’s an older Scion, which is shaped like a refrigerator on wheels, but it is golden in color. I don’t mean a yellowish color, but it is sparkly, metallic gold. It’s not the color I would have selected, but when we went to the Toyota dealer to get rid of the gigantic FJ Cruiser I was struggling with, this was the smallest, cheapest car on the lot. I bought it in spite of the color, but it has proven to be a perfect car. I can spot that little car in any parking lot, and friends always know where I have been: “Hey! I saw you in Asheville yesterday!”
So on Wednesday I was driving the Scion to my exercise class at the Senior Center. Our road is a narrow, dirt road with deep ravines on either side. It is wide enough only for one car at a time, which should be obvious at a glance, and anyone who has been on it before knows that cars pull over at the top or bottom to give right of way to a car already on the way up or down. It was a sunny, clear morning, and as I drove slowly down Walker Town Road towards the intersection of North Fork Right Fork Rd., I saw a guy in a black Ford coming around the corner to head up the hill. I assumed he would pull over and wait for me to continue the remaining yards to the intersection, but you know what happens when you “Assume” anything (Makes an ass out of u and me.”)
Before i could react at all, the guy accelerated and flew up the road, slamming into me head on. I was creeping, so the impact was not enough to activate the airbags, but it was enough to crunch the front end of the Scion as well as his Ford. I couldn’t believe it!
I got out of the car shaking and said to the guy in as calm a tone as I could muster, “What the Hell???”
He got out of his car and was very solicitous, asking if I was all right. I was fine, but repeated my initial question. “I didn’t see you….” he answered.
“Were you driving with your eyes closed?” I asked. How could he not see me? It was broad daylight and the sun glinted off the golden surface of the car. I could understand better if he had said that he had been blinded by the glare of the car’s exterior, but no. He claimed not to see me at all.
He mumbled something about not sleeping well the night before, so I imagine he must have been napping as he slammed into me. He begged me to avoid the insurance companies and swore up and down that he was “Not a dirtbag, like so many others,” and that he would pay every penny to repair my car.
Ron took the car to the body shop later that morning, and the total will be $1000! Ron called the guy and made an arrangement with him to pay Ron the money in installments. He will have to deal with the Wrath of Ron if he fails to do so, so I feel fine about the arrangement.
Later that evening we had friends over for dinner before we were to go to the performance by Roberta Baum at the White Horse. Our driveway is steep and curved and is also unpaved. I pick my way down cautiously, but Ron is a driving whiz, and can easily back down the driveway at a rapid speed. It was super dark out because of the clouds and the lack of any lighting, and the wounded Scion has only one dim backup light. As we flew down the driveway in reverse, we suddenly found ourselves hanging over the edge of a steep drop-off snuggled up to a big tree. We tried and tried to get out, but it wasn’t until the next day that Ron and some of his men were able to get the car back on the road.
We hiked back up the hill to the house and piled into Suzie’s car and made it to the White Horse in time to see most of Roberta’s show, which was fabulous, by the way!
I blame all of it on the full moon.