Or, I’m really tired of people ramming my truck.

Now that the ESO’s car is finally fixed, I’m back to driving my Dakota.  However, for reasons that completely escape me, it seems that people confuse it with the surrounding desert dirt (it is beige, after all).  At least, that’s my explanation for why, yesterday afternoon, somebody felt compelled to ram my truck in the middle of Carson City.

This would be the second time someone has rear-ended me in as many years.  I had never been rear-ended until I got that truck.

The best part, of course, was that, after pulling into a parking lot to talk to the lady that rammed me, I asked for her insurance card… and that’s when the waterworks hit.  Apparently, it was her dad’s car, she was a single mother, she just got divorced… in other words, Umm… I’m probably not insured and probably shouldn’t be driving this car.  Please let me go so the cops don’t arrest my sorry ass.  If you try to report this to an insurance agency, don’t be surprised if they laugh at you and you have to take me to court.

Great.

So, I looked at the damage.  It was a low speed collision (5-10 MPH, maybe) - the bumper was bent to hell but the frame was fine.  One of the nicer things about my Dakota is that you can literally see where the bumper bolts on to the frame; this means that, if I put my mind to it, I could probably replace the bumper with one from the junkyard in under an hour.  The bad news, though, is that, if I tried to report this to my insurance agency and took it to a body shop, the cost of repairing it would be under my deductible… which meant it wasn’t worth reporting, seeing as the likelihood I’d ever see a dime from Miss Uninsured Single Mother Driving Her Dad’s Pontiac was next to nil.

Naturally, “her” Pontiac was fine… apparently, the Grand Prix is a surprisingly durable car.  It definitely fared better than the Honda Accord that rammed into me on the freeway last year.  As an aside, the driver of the Accord provided her insurance paperwork promptly, and, seeing as the damage was about the same, no, I didn’t report her, either.

This brings up a point - if women drivers are so safe, how come both people that rammed into me in traffic were both women? Sorry, ladies - you’re at least as inattentive as the men out there.  In fact, based on my personal, anecdotal experience, I’d say my truck would have a much lower chance of getting slammed into if everybody with more estrogen than testosterone got off of my f—ing road.

There.  I said it.  Women can’t drive.  When they stop ramming the back of my truck, I’ll stop being bitterly mysogenistic about this.  Until then, deal.

Trackback URI | Comments RSS