I was driving along feeling sorry for myself listening to Michael Bolton belt out “How Am I Supposed To Live Without You” when my accountant called. He told me how much money I owed in taxes and my mood went from ‘suicide watch’ to ‘watch out BMW – I’m about to sideswipe you.’
“Oops” I said into the phone. Then, I promised to call back and I hung up.
I was hoping I had hit a parked car so that I could just leave a note on the windshield with all my information and not deal with anyone or not deal at all and draw a much less incriminating sad little face.
I wasn’t tested. I was halfway out of my car when I saw a small, dark middle aged woman standing next to a smashed in front end (of her car) pointing her crooked finger at the shiney black BMW with MD plates.
I stood face to face with her while she hit me over and over again with her words, “What were you dinking? What were you dinking? What were you dinking? What were you dinking?” (I found out later this ‘dinking’ was an Armenian accent)
I blurted out exactly what I was thinking.
“I was talking to my accountant. He was giving me bad news. And, my husband passed away three months ago.”
Boom. That stopped her. I turned away, went back to my car and came back with my information.
I had thrown her a curve ball and she was pissed. She was quiet for a few moments as she began to copy my insurance junk on her persciption pad. Later she tore off a sheet for a calling card making sure to x out the blank part…like I was sixteen and going to run off to score some cool pills with it or something.
Finally, without looking up she acknowledged what I had said.
“Well, okey, I hear you – Your husband passed away (pause) but mine is going to keeel me.”
I had to laugh. She didn’t. I had to say
“Well, I guess that’s a perk. That’s something I don’t have to worry about anymore.”