Scrunch

It's a terribly onomatopoeic word, scrunch. Sounds awfully cute spoken aloud, but when produced by the collision of objects in space - automobiles, say - it loses its cuteness really fast. I heard it in such a context while driving yesterday. It was the product of a pickup suddenly attempting to become one with my car.

In response, I produced some sounds of my own. Something along the lines of "Fuckity fuck fuck fuck."

Not that I feel the need to stress here my non-culpability in the accident, but it's astonishing how things can happen to you out of the friggin' blue, even while you're taking every precaution you can think of. It's a metaphor for something or other.

I'm fine. The car is driveable, but damaged. So now I'm walking the okay-dokey trail of Auto Insurance Gulch, and am reminded of what a colleague once said her own agent told her years ago: "Insurance isn't pretty." So far, though, the insurance machine seems to be working just as it should, and everyone I've spoken with has been helpful and competent. Fingers crossed that things stay that way.

In the meantime, I'm a touch paranoid about other motorists. Probably not a bad way to be.

(Always look both ways before cross-posting...)


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