Well, shit, Buford
I forgot my camera at church yesterday, so I had to go back for it last night. I was way tired, and pulled into the lower parking lot by the office door out of habit. Didn't feel like trudging through the whole church and climbing stairs, so I pulled out of the lower parking lot and headed for the front doors.
It was black as the inside of a cow and raining as I began a wide turn to circle round the entryway to pull under the roof over the drive-through. The porch lights were all I could see. Then, WHAM!
my car smacked right into the light pole in the parking lot. I sat there stunned for a moment, then watched the light pole topple forward and smack the ground.
I assumed that I had crumpled my front end, at least, but when I got out to check, there wasn't a scratch on my car. I hit it dead center on the front license plate holder, and the padded bumper absorbed most of the shock. The hood still worked, the engine never stopped running, the airbags didn't deploy. But the pole was snapped off near the base. It's an old pole and had been hit before, so water had gotten into it, I guess, and it was rotten. I'm lucky it didn't topple backwards; then it would
have smashed my car.
Well, at 9:20 p.m. on Christmas night, whom do you call? As an accident on private grounds, it didn't require filing a police report. I drove home (rather shakily) and tried to call our Trustees President. He wasn't home. I tried to call the insurance company, but nobody was in the office.
So this morning, the Trustees Pres and I finally made connections. I've got the insurance company working on it, and he's getting the workmen lined up to replace the pole.
I feel like an idiot, but however embarrassing it might be to tell people about it, long experience has taught me not to try to stay quiet and let 'em assume somebody else done it. Sooner or later, you always have to 'fess up. People will forgive you being stupid, but if they think you're trying to hide something, they will never quite trust you again.
and I went to Wal-Mart a little bit ago to exchange a pair of pants we gave him that didn't fit. I had to show my Drivers License to do it. "Did you know your license has expired?" the cashier asked. Apparently, it did so while I was in the hospital a couple months ago.
My guardian angel must have been calling for backup all this time. Oy.