Yeah, Yeah … another garage sale blog. But did you know, oh faithful reader, that there’s a dark side to these blissful Saturday morning outings?
A couple weeks ago my husband and I started out early. After three successful stops and a trunk full of rock-bottom, dirt-cheap, slap-me-silly fabulous finds, we ventured to the west side of town. Suddenly, out of nowhere, a gum-chewing, cell phone-gabber (and quite possibly texting) woman, bore down on our backside. She might as well have hitched a ride on our bumper and saved her gas.
My husband growled. “She’s too close!” And I said, as I ignored him, “Slow down, there’s big ole’ yard sale up ahead in that empty pasture next to the County Line Grocery.” So, he did what all obedient garage-saleing husbands do. He slowed down, put his signal on, and proceeded to turn right into the parking lot. Until …
SCREECH! WHAM! BAM!
The bumper-hugging woman rammed into us like two 1972 Ford Zephyrs battling it out in a Demolition Derby. Her air bags deployed. Her front end was smashed up to her steering wheel, and obviously she didn’t have her seat belt on. Her chin was a bloody mess.
We were shaken up a bit. But not injured.
The Fire Department, EMTs, and State Police showed up. Quite the three-ring circus, I must say. Nobody was hurt enough to go to the hospital, thank God for that.
She and my husband exchanged a few not-so-pleasant words. She said, “I was following one car length!”
“ONE car length?!?” Michael shook his head. “Go back and read your driver’s education manual! At 50 mph, you should’ve been FIVE car lengths behind us!”
Well … you can imagine the rest.
Needless to say, she totaled her car. We, on the other hand, drove away with just a few scratches.
But the worst thing was … we missed the garage sale.
Blessings to you and yours.