Hit me, Chevy, One More Time

I don't think any of you guys would be surprised to hear that I want a new(er) car, especially if you're Facebook friends with me, considering how much time I spend whining about cars on my timeline.  The problem is that I don't *need* a new car.  At all.  Not even a little.

I'm still driving my trusty 2000 Toyota convertible, and the damn thing won't die. 

Jeff and I agreed years ago that we would buy cars when only we need them (and when we can pay cash, if possible).  Since that time, Jeff has had 2 new(er) cars (both purchases were need-based and paid for in cash) but I'm still chugging away in my old Toyota.  This will not stand, people.  In fact, if you include the old trucks he's restoring, Jeff has bought 6 (SIX!!!) cars since I've had my Toyota. *Somebody* needs to learn how to say "no" to her husband.

The problem is that there's absolutely nothing wrong with my car.  It's mechanically sound, the body is pristine, and when you step on the gas it takes off like a rocket.  Even the mileage is relatively low. Crap.

My car may be "fine", but there are a world of sexy new convertibles out there that make my car look like a turd.  And I want one of those sexy new cars.  Badly.

Last Sunday I thought I was finally going to score a new car the hard way: by Totaling the Toyota (ahhh...alliteration).  It doesn't take too much damage to total out a 13-year-old car, and I thought Sunday was my day. W00T!!!  I've never been so excited about the prospect of being hit by a moron.

I was driving to the mall, and when I came over a hill a fire truck was pulling onto the road and traffic had stopped.  While I was waiting for the road to clear, I looked in my rear view mirror and saw an old beige Chevy Caprice hauling butt over the hill in my lane.  There's no way he would be able to stop in time.  A collision was imminent.

I'm not going to lie, people.  I was thrilled to see him.  All I could think was "Bring the pain, Chevy, and score me a new car!"  Who's the moron now?

The only barrier between me & the Chevy was a little old lady in a Lincoln behind me.  She was getting hit for sure, and I was confident there was no way she'd be able to keep from rolling right into me.

I relaxed my shoulders, took a big breath, exhaled and put my head on the headrest. Standard car wreck prep.  Then I waited.

I heard the squeal of tires and watched in the mirror as the Chevy nailed the car behind me.  And then.....nothing.  Grandma in the Lincoln kept her foot on the brake, and instead of ramming into me, the back of her car lifted off the ground and then came back down on the Chevy's hood.  Dammit, Grandma - hook a sister up!  Car parts flew all around my car, but nothing hit me.  Nothing whatsoever.  Double crap.
 
I jumped out to make sure everyone was OK (they were), and then went about my business.  In my old-ass car.

I know what you guys are thinking: "Jesus, LAB, what kind of dumb ass gets excited about getting in a car wreck?"

Well, *raises hand*,  this girl does.  I never claimed to be smart.  But I'm an excellent driver!  Unfortunately.