Wrecked in the Wal-Mart Parking Lot - Roxie

I didn’t really need anything from Wal-Mart. It’s just that I had makeup on and presentable clothes and had a small list of things I had wanted to get from Wal-Mart for a while. Mundane things, no big deal really. So I got myself in my truck, my beautiful, unblemished, silver metallic 2007 Honda Ridgeline with less than 14,000 miles on it. Still like brand new. So I drove to Wal-Mart and parked left of the space where you bring your shopping cart after unloading it. I normally try to park next to one or at the end of a lane or the very first space in a lane. I figure you’re only exposed to a ding from someone’s car door slamming against yours on one side that way instead of both sides being vulnerable. See, I think of these things to protect my beautiful, untouched, and unblemished, like brand-new truck.

I gathered the things I needed inside the store. After checking out I headed for my shiny, silver bullet colored automobile and loaded my two bags in the rear behind the driver’s seat. The gentleman next to me was waiting patiently for me to pull out so I hurried along to do that and wham, that’s when it happened. An elderly lady was pulling out in the opposite parking space behind me and we literally meet right in the middle. She didn’t see me and I didn’t see her. I obviously have a blind spot I need to deal with. Crunch, scrape, twist, grind – we both pulled back into our respective spaces to get out to see the damage. After saying a few choice words I won’t repeat here, I climbed out. Both of our bumpers were punctured and I have to say that mine was worse. A 2004 Ford Crown Victoria is a tank, my friends, a big, hardy piece of metal. Remind me to avoid them.

Greta is probably in her late 60’s or early 70’s, a tall, imposing woman with reddish gray hair and a sad face. She had a piece of paper in hand, her insurance information, I presumed. I got mine out of the glove box and asked, “What do we do now?”

She said, “I guess we exchange information and turn it into our insurance companies.”

So we exchanged info and both apologized for any wrongdoing we were responsible for. I suspected the insurance companies would say it’s a no-fault deal and the fixing of each vehicle will be up to the owner. I told her that and she agreed. She also said she wasn’t surprised this happened after the day she’d had. That made me feel even worse. I said, “I am so sorry. It sucks. You’re lucky I’m not a bitchy person, this could be a lot worse if I were a mean lady.”

Her reply was, “Well, maybe we were supposed to meet.” That took me off guard. She also said, “It should have been a semi truck that hit me.” Awwww!!!

She said she wasn’t even going to tell her husband what happened. When he noticed it she’d just fake surprise and not have a clue as to where it could have happened … maybe someone in the Wal-Mart parking lot hit her and left. Which was actually the truth, that last part at least.

We agreed to call each other if we decided to report it to our insurance companies and I mentioned that I kind of doubted it but I’d call and let her know either way.

When I got home Randy was pulling in right behind me. I got out of the truck with not only a sad face, but also tears in my eyes. He said, “What’s wrong.”

I whined, “Look at my bumper, I hit a woman in the Wal-Mart parking lot. My beautiful truck has a big fat boo-boo now.” And then I cry. Great big fat alligator tears trickled down my cheeks. I had taken precautions to prevent my truck from getting a ding in the door and then this happened. Makes a door ding seem like a great alternative. Oh, woe is me.

I brushed the tears aside and asked Randy what I should do and he suggested I simply get estimates on the repair and not turn it in to the insurance company at all. I went inside to call Greta. She didn’t answer so I left a message for her to call me. When she did I told her we weren’t turning it over to the insurance company and we’d just leave it at that. She agreed that’s the right thing to do.

Then she said, “Things can always be worse, Honey. Everything happens for a reason. Maybe we were supposed to meet this way.“

I asked what her husband said when he saw it and she said, “We’re not speaking today so he doesn’t know and I’m not telling him. It’s been one of those days, as I said earlier. AND he called me stupid, too.”

I responded with, “Well, I talked to you earlier and you didn’t appear to be stupid to me at all, so I don’t think you’re stupid in the least, maybe he’s stupid.”

She cackled at that one. “Maybe we’ll bump into each other again some time.”

“No, No, don’t even SAY that, we don’t want to bump into each other again!” I giggled, “We’ve already done that.”

I wish I could meet new friends a little differently. We agreed to get together for coffee some time. So, in conclusion, my not so shiny, not unblemished, not perfect truck is marred BUT I may have met a new friend. Greta is right, it can always be worse. At least neither one of us was hurt and may have been helped in some small way. At least a semi truck didn’t hit her.

Only time will tell where this “meeting” will lead.