How I got a car
I had my birthday recently, and my husband got me an electric scooter as a present. It’s to help me get around while we save up for a car. It got me thinking about some presents I had gotten in previous years. One year I accidentally got a car (pun very much intended). Here’s the story of how I got a car.
The neighbours scared my parents
About five years ago, I was still driving my dad’s Toyota Tazz. It wasn’t a great car, but it got the job done. So, one afternoon I went to karate class. It was a normal class, just like any other. When I was driving home, I saw that there had been an accident near our house. A guy had driven into a tree on the sidewalk. I found it strange because this happened on a long, straight road.
When I got home, my parents were frantic. Unbeknownst to me, the car that was in the accident was the same type of car and colour as mine. Also, the accident happened only a few minutes after I left the house.
Our neighbours were one of the first people on the scene and thought it was me who was in the accident. They called my parents and, understandably, they freaked out.
It was my dad’s decision
My dad and I walked to the scene of the accident to figure out what happened. There were so many people. It’s kind of pathetic that a car accident is the most entertaining thing in Bloemfontein (the city where I lived). At that stage, no one knew exactly what happened, but that car was completely wrecked. The emergency personnel had to cut the car’s roof off to get the guy out. By some miracle, he wasn’t hurt—praise the Lord.
When my dad saw that car, well what was left of it, he said that from now on I was to drive with our other car, a Camry. It was quite an old model—the Toyota Camry model that is the sponsor of, ‘well, I’ve given up on life’. However, it was quite an upgrade for me. It had air-conditioning and power steering, and great suspension. Such a luxury! Of course, it was safer as well.
Did I mention that all of this happened the day before my birthday. So, I technically got a car for my birthday. Okay, more technically, I was allowed to drive one of my dad’s better cars.
I feel bad for the person who was in that accident, but they also did me a favour, I guess. I drove that Camry until we moved.
Lastly
Has anything like this ever happened to you? I’d love to hear about it in the comments.
Michelle
P.S. If you’d like to contact me, feel free to comment below, send an email to thatmichelleperson@gmail.com, or follow me on Twitter @M_ClutterBox.
