2:40 p.m. - I stomped out to the "Hot Tamale" (a.k.a - my red car that is nearly on its last legs but I am too cheap to buy a new one). A fine time awaits me on an airport run to pick up a colleague who was flying back into town after a weekend in sunny San Diego. I piloted the red rig to Sea-Tac to meet my bouncy colleague who was ramped up and ready to grab a bite. So, we scooted over to The Cheesecake Factory for some grub and a de-brief of the trip. We took cheesecake slices to go, of course.
The afternoon was young and my colleage suggested we hit IKEA since we were in that part of town. OK by me. I like to look at the Scandinavian wares with wordless directions for how to assemble anything you buy there.
6:30 p.m. As we careen out of the IKEA parking lot and head north on Interstate 5 my colleage said, "Hey, have you been to Candy Cane Lane?" I haven't ever been. Candy Cane Lane is one circle drive in Seattle where each house rigs up their lawn with oodles of lights, signs, blow up characters, etc. to celebrate the holiday season. You can throw a few cans of non-perishable goods in a box at the end of the lane as a thank you. Since we were sans any canned goods, we took the tour for free.
7:05 p.m. As we waited in what felt like a nine mile long line of cars waiting to hit candy Cane Lane I suggested we pop open the cheesecake containers and have a light snack while we crawl along waiting to enter the lane. We did just that. Mouth fulls of cheesecake and whip cream are just what you need to get sugared up before a trip down Candy Cane Lane. We were about half way through the slices when it happened. Ding- Dong - Bam - The car behind us ran into the Hot Tamale. This has happened to me before and I am getting used to people running into the car. My colleague said, "Do you want me to act like my neck is injured?" We both laughed and I declined the thoughtful invitation. We pulled over and hopped out to have what turned out to be an entertaining and slightly concerning experience.
The white car behind me that left its calling card on my red bumper came to a stop and out hopped the driver. Rumor has it that everyone has a twin out there in the world. This guy was the twin of Charles Manson. I kid you not.
After ensuring we were all OK he said, "Well there is no damage." The damage was minimal. So, I did find it as my civic duty to point out the scrapes on the red bumper to ensure that he realized his car had given my car a kiss. "Oh," Charles Manson replied. I asked if he had a piece of paper so we could exchange information. He scurried back to the car and came back with a book and opened it to the first page. I asked, "Can I rip this page out?"
"Yeah, I guess." - I wondered what he expected me to do? Make a photo copy here on the side of the road of whatever I wrote down on the first page of his book.
As I recorded his Driver license info. I asked if he had an insurance card. He produced a card from USAA Insurance company that was expired. I shared this info with him and he dug around some more in the car and produced three more insurance cards that were also all expired. He proclaimed, "I am current on my insurance. I always pay, man. Don't worry." OK, I wasn't too worried until my colleague got out of the car and stomped back to give him the evil eye. I appreciated that.
Charles Manson proceeded to tell us that his girlfriend has just dumped him and that it had been a really bad day. He lives a mere block from where we bumped into each other, though his license gave a Tacoma, Washington address. He then laid the most interesting news of all on us. "This is the second fender bender I have had today." Yes, you read that correctly. Word of advice: If you have a series of fender benders in one day it is advisable not to tell the next person you bump into that they are not the first of the day. It is sort of like being told by a girlfriend that you aren't the only one.
He went on, " The lady I ran into earlier said it was OK since there was no damage. Can you please, please, please not call my insurance company. I am getting to the age where my rates are supposed to drop." Now, here we stood, Charles Manson, my colleague and I on the side of Ravenna Blvd. with a mere two hundred automobiles in line next to us dumping exhaust in our faces waiting for their turn down Candy Cane Lane. I wanted to think clearly, but the exhaust was fogging my thinking. We were at a crossroads of Ethical Dilemma and Sock it to Him. So, I repleid, "How about I find out how much this will cost to repair and you can just pay it yourself and we don't have to go through insurance." Charles Manson thought that was a splendid idea.
Thinking this was ready to be wrapped up I ripped the page out of the book he game me and closed the cover. The book title was "ALCOHOLICS ANONYMOUS". I am all for people getting a grip on their addictions. I thought for a moment how nice it was for Charles Manson to be getting the help he needed. My colleague caught a glimpse of the cover of the book and her face told a horrible story. She asked him, "Have you been drinking?" - I cringed with fear that this would turn into a street brawl on Candy cane Lane, but had an ever dying curiosity to know the answer to this question myself. (More props for my colleague.)
"No! No! I am clean and sober. I am clean and sober. My insurance rates are going to go up. Can I just give you my car. It is a piece of crap, but it is an offer." Ummmm, give us your car? Why? Because you bumped into the Hot Tamale? - I have one hunk of junk. I don't want another. This is the first point that I realized something is amiss here with Charlie. We don't simply offer our car to people we bump into. This isn't the 1800's where you barter. I declined the offer and said I would give him a call and let him know how much it costs to repair. He waltzed back to the white heap and got back in the line to Candy Cane Lane.
It was an eventful evening and one that made me appreciate having my rock solid colleague with me. She gets a shout out- Always calm under pressure. Thanks, Heidi!
