Dear retarded lady who crashed into my car in the post office parking lot,
Next time you try to convince me that you didn't crash into my car, but that "Ooops! We must have crashed into each other!" I will pull out my knife, gouge each of your eyes out, and say, "Ooops! My knife and your eyes must have crashed into each other!"
See that reflective little rectangle hanging from the ceiling of your car? You know, the one right smack dab in the middle of your ceiling, right up next to your front dash? That thing is called a "rear view mirror." If you look into it, it magically shows you stuff that's behind your car. I'm not sure how it works...must be some old jedi trick or something, but you should try using it sometime. Then, maybe next time, you'll be able to see that there is a bright blue car, sitting at a complete stand still, right behind, and perpendicular to your car. And maybe, just maybe, you won't decide to peel out of your parking space, in reverse, and bash the crap out of my car.
Oh yeah, and that girl sitting shotgun in my car? She's not traumatized or anything. Nope, not one bit. She only spent the next 4 hours talking about every single car wreck she's ever been in and how much she never ever wants to even see a car, let alone set foot in one. Other than that, I don't think that today's incident phased her. So no need to worry.
Anywho, just wanted to let you know that we're all ok. No one was hurt, thank God, and at the end I remembered that a car is just a car and that what matters is that you, my friend, and I were in no way injured. And this helped me get over the whole thing. Well, this and my insurance agent, who assured me that "you don't have a thing to worry about, Merry Widow...we'll take over from here and all will be taken care of."
So thank you, retarded lady who crashed into my car in the post office parking lot. You reminded me of what really matters in life: health, good friends, and great auto-insurance.
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