Last night I saw Cars 2 with my friend Morgan; her brother Michael and sister Allison; our friend Collins, and my friend Kayla. [The movie was sooo cute. Every time I see the Disney castle and hear that music it brings me back to my childhood.] We had all met at Morgan's house so we could just take two cars. Well we got back after the movie and my friend Kayla needed a ride home
It was sort of raining, more like a drizzle. On the way back I wasn't really worried because it had all but stopped. Of course, I forgot about the puddles. And the wet roads. I might have taken a turn just a tad too fast. Next thing I know I'm hydroplaning and start fishtailing towards a house. Mind you this is out in the country, on a pretty much deserted county back road where there's a house every 5 minutes. While trying not to freak out I start correcting it, when I over correct and head straight into a ditch on the other side of the road.
It all happened so fast. All I know is I saw of flash of red and thought I took out a mailbox. Those mailboxes are built to withstand combines, tractors, weather, anything. I'm thinking, okay, this could be really, really bad. Do I get out and check my car? No. Because I watch TV, I've seen the movies. I am not going to get killed by a psycho, drugged up killer. Luckily, Morgan's house was like a minute away, so I drove out of the ditch [thank God for Jeeps] and to her house. Where I walked into their living room and promptly burst into tears in front of her and Collins. They consoled me until I was able to tell them what happened. And, God bless them, they started telling jokes and stories about accidents they've had to try and calm me down.
When I finally calmed down I called my dad and then we went out and inspected my car. Considering I thought I just murdered a mailbox the damage really wasn't bad at all. I busted the casing of my right front headlight and the front bumper sagged a little. My Jeep being old those pieces will be easy to replace, the expense not too bad. My dad got there, checked it out, and we went home.
We went back to the scene of the crime this afternoon because it's "the right thing to do." [My dad's big on that.] He was going to offer to buy the people a new mailbox. But when we got there we discovered that I actually didn't hit the mailbox. I came within inches of the stupid thing, but didn't even touch it. I guess it didn't go flying, I did. We knocked on the people's door anyways, but they weren't home. The only thing that ended up injured was my headlight. Oh, and my pride. Sigh. I'm just wondering how many more lucky shots I'm going to get.