Crunch! That’s the sound the bumper on my lovely Nissan Altima made when a nasty, big SUV kissed it last week. I was about to get on the interstate and had to stop suddenly due to a brief traffic jam. Realizing that I had to hit my brakes pretty quickly, I looked in my rear view mirror and saw the front end of a GMC. He’s going hit – Crunch! – me.
It happened right in front of Vino’s (my favorite pizza place) downtown and thankfully, there was an empty parking lot to turn into. My hands were a little shaky due to my death grip moments before the collision. Technically, this was my first “real” accident. I’ve had minor brushes with other cars, like the one time I was backing up the same time another car was in a mall parking lot.
But the damage was so minor, you had to use a magnifying glass to find the scratch. Another time, I ran into someone going like 15 mph – it was more embarrassing than anything. Once we parked, the other driver ran over to me and asked if I was OK. I was fine, just a little overwhelmed I told him. We both walked to the back of my car and surveyed the damage.
Compared to how bad it could’ve been, Miss Pearl just had a few nasty scraps, a couple dents and the trunk wouldn’t open. Not that big of a deal. Yet, we traded information and the other driver said he knew a shop where I could take my car and he promised he would take care of everything.
I called Parish to tell him what happened, and once he knew that I was all right, we made the necessary arrangements and I took my car to the shop the following day. When I told them who recommended me, the guy at the repair shop said, “You couldn’t have been hit by a nicer person.” That is, by far, the most odd thing anyone has ever said to me. At this point, I had time to cool down and just smiled politely at the man. “Whatever,” I thought to myself, “Just fix my baby and get her back to me, OK?”
He promised he would and said he stood behind his work 100 percent satisfaction guaranteed. The next thing I had to do was rent a car to get me to and from work while Miss Pearl was in the hospital. I called Mr. Nice, who preferred to handle situation and said, “You will have a car waiting for you when you drop your car off.”
I was pleasantly surprised and started to think that maybe the repairman was right. During our conversation, he said over and over that he didn’t want me to be in any trouble or cause any hassle.
Mr. Nice told me to call the rental place and tell them what kind of car I wanted – “get something comparable to what you drive now, nothing too small,” he told me. Who is this guy? I thought twice about ordering a Hummer or Mercedes G5 – but went with a Nissan Sentra instead (you are welcome, planet Earth).
I really thought this whole experience was going to be a headache, but Mr. Nice has made it easy and, dare I say, pleasant? He has been accommodating, accessible and just really all around easy to work with. I’m taking my car in tomorrow morning, and if everything continues to this smoothly, I might have to alter my jaded view of humankind a little bit.
I would also like to thank Mr. Nice – you know who you are. I appreciate your overwhelming kindness throughout this situation. It was nice running
into you.