Attention Broads: Get Off The Damned Road!

The broad in question, before she creamed my SUV.

So, I was involved in an auto accident today. This is not a joke, or a funny anecdote for the blog. Here's what happened (and keep in mind that I am still frakkin' furious at this stupid bitch):

After leaving work, I embarked on the usual drive home. On most days it takes about thirty minutes, and is usually uneventful. Since it was a Saturday, traffic was light, and very few true morons were occupying the highway.

Except this bitch.

I was almost home, maybe a mile away, when I stopped at a red light. The Psychedelic Furs were playing on my mp3 player, and life was good. Then it happened.

WHAM!!!
My precious, eight-month old Saturn VUE was abruptly rear-ended by another car. I was jolted forward, and it felt like a freight train hit me. My wrists bent the wrong way, and I slammed my ankle against the floor board. My first thought was "Mother f**ker!!!" My second thought was, "Kill someone now." I got out of the car, looked behind me at the vapid, young blond idiot sitting behind the wheel of the striking vehicle, and screamed at the top of my lungs, "F**K!!!"

I ignored the impulse to see if she was hurt, because if she wasn't, I feared I may hurt her. Thus, I looked at the back of my eight-month old Saturn VUE. The damage was unimaginable. This broad had to pay with her life. (After I calmed down later, I realized that missing paint and a severely scraped and dented fender was not worth life in prison, but I was upset at the time.) She finally exited her vehicle, and was immediately verbally assaulted by a usually calm and cool blog professional:

"Were you rear-ended before you hit me, or were you just not paying and damned attention?!!!"

Her idiotic reply: "I wasn't rear-ended." (Read: I am too blond and too dumb to have a Pennsylvania driver's license.)

The list of possible explanations for her idiocy are as follows:

• The bitch was talking on her cell phone with her vapid friends.
• The bitch was applying yet another layer of makeup.
• The bitch confused the gas pedal and the brake pedal again.

We may never know the real answer, because she never told me why she's too stupid to drive. Also, she never apologized for plowing me (and not in a good way), so that didn't help my mood. After assessing the damage to our vehicles - her front grill was completely smashed: good - I went to the passenger side of my SUV and broke out the vehicle info.

It was here that the bitch saw my pistol, handcuffs, and detective's shield. From this, she keenly hypothesized that I may be a member of law enforcement. Continually tap-dancing on the land mine, she said, "So, I guess you're a cop, right?"

My snarkastic response? "What gave that away, the FOP license plate, the gun, the handcuffs, or the shield?"

She didn't speak to me after that. Smart move on her part.

A few minutes later, a police officer pulled up, got out of his patrol car, and asked, "Do you guys need a police officer?"

My still-angry reply? "I AM a police officer."

The officer looked at me - in my rage - and asked, "Bad day, huh?" Almost immediately, the bitch replied, "Please, he's angry enough already." The bitch is learning.

The officer was kind enough to write up the accident report, and said that he could drop off a copy at my house later this evening. Still blinded by rage, I asked him if he could ship it through inter-departmental mail to my detective division. So, instead of having the report in front of me now, I'll need to wait a few days. Dumb, but I wasn't thinking straight at the time.

The officer completed his report, gave us our information back, and before the bitch could make her final mistake - opening her stupid, idiotic, vapid mouth - I got into my vehicle and went home. Still a little sore, I looked at the back of the car for a while, and got instantly depressed. There are a few places on the bumper where the paint is completely gone, and the plastic part of the bumper was scratched and dented. One of the bottom reflectors was cracked as well, and that will have to be replaced. I can't even report the accident or sue this chick, because the damage is less than my deductible, and I don't want my rates to rise. All in all, it could have been much worse, but I am still devastated.

This is the first mark on my baby, and it wasn't my fault. I realize that this is why they are called "accidents," but the whole event could have been avoided if this broad was paying attention. She wasn't, and now I have to suffer for it. Frakkin' women drivers.

Editor's note: I realize that not every female driver is an idiot, so don't send me hate mail. Frankly, I'm still pissed off, so if my rant about this particular lousy woman driver offends you, tough.

Crazy Karma Moment: I received a copy of the accident report today, and the bitch has the same exact birth date as me! Same month, same day, same year! Weird.