Ok, I’m an idiot.

I left work early today because I still had a pounding headache. At about 12:30, I was backed up in a line of traffic, at a full stop, for a red light across a busy intersection.

To my right was a scruffy-looking guy that looked to be the right age to be holding a sign saying “Homeless Vietnam Vet.”

(You may start the bleeding-heart liberal jokes at any time.)

I rolled down the passenger-side window, and waved a couple bucks. As he took them from my hand, my foot slipped off the brake.

I’m driving an older Geo Prism. My brother donated it to charity – me. The idle is set high.

When my foot slipped off the brake, I immediately ran into the white Ford Expedition in front of me. I didn’t even have a moment to process. The guy looked at me pityingly and said “oh, no…”.

If it had been a different sort of vehicle, it wouldn’t have been a big deal. Unfortunately, that truck was big and so high off the ground that its back bumper slid into my hood.

The hood buckled in half. The driver’s side lights broke, the passenger side door won’t open, the engine fan was tilted back, and the edge of the hood looks like it just touched the radiator.

The driver of the truck – a nice woman who is going to study nursing at Emory – pulled into the fast-food parking lot on the other side of the intersection. I followed.

We drove by two policemen in the parking lot, and they came over to talk with us. They said that they were on their way to a robbery. They advised us – with the understanding that they “weren’t here” – that we should call 911, state that it was a non-emergency call, and file the report with the officer on duty. That way, it would have a case number and would go to our insurance.

So then they went back to the patrol car for twenty minutes and ate their chicken sandwiches. (sigh)

We called, but there was no officer on duty. They said they would have to send someone out.

We waited an hour, then she left. She gave me all of her information (and called me later too to ask if I was all right).

After another half hour, a patrolman arrived. He asked why I had called, since there were no injuries and no dispute about fault. I told him what happened. He apologized for the “unprofessional behavior” and said that if he filed a case report he would have to issue me a ticket. He was very nice and advised me just to call the insurance company and do it that way. He also escorted me part of the way home to make sure that the engine wouldn’t overheat.

I made it home, but I couldn’t find the insurance information. Now I have to wait until my hubby gets back from teaching to call. I did talk to the woman I hit. There was no damage to her vehicle.

I feel like a total fool, but what worries me is the comparison between the value of the car and what this might cost to fix. I never take this car on the highway anyway. Obviously now I know it’s as though it were made of tissue paper, and I would be toast in a real accident. But I always knew it was really an about-town sort of car anyway.

If they decide to total the car, I will be left without any car at all. I was a prisoner to this house and my workplace for three years. I couldn’t take that again. I hope it all works out.

To take up what I am sure is a totally outdated phrase, I’m really bummed out.