Bumper Cars

I am working out in anticipation of my upcoming wedding, since I spent the early days of my engagement stress-eating my way to lard-ass proportions.  In theory, I like working out.  I worked at the University gym in college, and actually looked like it.  However, my changing metabolism and the discovery of weekly Indian buffets has done a number on my figure, and I realized (a day late and dollar short) that I must remedy this posthaste.

I chose to run at the local middle school’s track on a recent sunny morning, and felt pretty proud of my workout (running!  jumping!  stretching!) as I cruised home.  Until another driver failed to notice my shiny silver SUV STOPPED IN FRONT OF HER.  She smacked my bumper, and smushed her Honda Accord into an ugly mess in the process.  And so begins the insurance-repair game.

Now, as the not-at-fault person, I am entitled to all sorts of royal treatment from her insurance company, including getting a rental car to replace mine as the body shop slooooowly replaces my bruised bumper.  Let’s just say, a Chevy Cobalt, while teeny and precious, is NOT a normal replacement for my roomy urban assault vehicle.  (Yes, I know SUVs are not the world’s best friend, but I have a lot of crap that I cart around.  This is not a justification for depleting the ozone layer, but seriously.  Mountains of crap, that I cannot NOT haul about with me, like a modern nomad.)

After vaguely insulting my adjuster, (“Wow!  All of these cars were wrecked by drivers of your insurance group?  You guys should start screening!”) I crawl into my cobalt-colored Cobalt and feel like the lead car in a Shriner parade.  I long for a round hat with a flowing tassel, because I could raise some serious cash for kids in this sucker.

I drove my Barbie Power Wheel around for 6 days, while the repairs took place, and I must say, it wasn’t half bad.  But I hugged my sweet, massive baby when I got her back today, new bumper glistening in the sun.  Once you have an SUV, it’s hard to go compact…