When i was home this summer, i was driving my dad's Caddy. One day, my best friend, Jasmine, came by to go to the beach with my kids and I. As i was backing the damn boat around to get out of the abortion of a driveway that my parents' yard is filled with, I heard that sickening crunch of metal against metal. I yelled, "fuck!" as I threw a furtive glance toward the house to see if my Dad had heard the noise and was now racing toward me, weapon raised, eyes filled with retribution....for the Cadillac was (and is) his pride and joy. Fortunately his hearing is shot, so he was still bent over his welding project in the garage. Jasmine and i exchanged nervous looks, and i jumped out to assess the damage. My lunch was in my throat, my heart was pounding. oh god. there was a huge gash, right above the headlight and a scratch on the light itself. i decided to get the hell out of there and try to figure out what to do about it, so we continued on our course to the beach. About a half mile from my parents' house, i crossed the bridge over the Weskeag river, and pulled into the parking lot next to it so i could further inventory the damage. as I got out of the car, i saw the neighbor's car rounding the bend and waved, just as i heard the driver (who is my childhood bestfriend julie's dad) yell at an oncoming car, "Fucking asshole!"
made my day.
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