If I was an unkind person I'd say that I hope he broke a rib. But I'm a nice person (ish) so I won't say that. Ahem.

OMG you guys I have another story to tell you!

I even created accompanying artwork!



I'm nooooooooo Hyperbole and a Half, but I thought the visual would be handy. (And seriously, if you're not familiar, HaaH is funny but HOLY TOLEDO, I just went to her blog so I could link to her and I read the post about the dental surgery and now I think my coworkers think I was trying to stifle tears, but really I was trying to stifle laughter.)

Okay, so here's the story:

I was on my way to a new boot camp location. My phone gave me jacked up directions (probably because it was mad at me for risking its life in a kayaking accident the day before) and it ended up sending me to the wrong side of a pedestrian bridge. The park I was going to was on the other side of the bridge and as I pulled into the cul de sac I contemplated my choices:

A) Figure out how to drive to the other side of the bridge

B) Park and carry all my stuff over the bridge even though I wasn't sure how far I'd have to walk once I got to the other side (I couldn't see the other side because it was so steep and San Tomas Expressway and its noise walls were blocking my view)

But while I was sitting there considering my options, a couple of teenagers on bikes came TEARING down the steep grade of the bridge and onto the cul de sac. I was off to the side thinking so I wasn't in their way but I did think that DAGNABBIT THOSE KIDS ARE GONNA GET THEMSELVES KILLED.

I decided to take option A so I started a three point turn to get myself out of the cul de sac. I was stopped in the middle of the turn, about to reverse to get myself out of there and when I turned my head to back up I saw another kid TEARING down the bridge at a million miles an hour but since my CAR was in the STREET WHERE CARS BELONG and was therefore blocking the kid's exit route and because he was going TEN MILLION MILES AN HOUR, he didn't have anywhere to go but into the side of my car.

BOOM!

CRASH!

S-H-I-T!

So I got out, the kid's friends all rode to his side, the neighbors came out of their houses, the lady who had been WALKING across the bridge eventually made it down and we all stood there watching the kid groan and writhe next to my car.

He was okay he said and his friends all started laughing at him and the spokesman and translator of the group turned to me and said it was okay because it was "equal fault" and I was like "NO WAY DUDE! I WAS STOPPED! IN THE STREET! WHERE CARS ARE! I'm glad he's okay but MY CAR IS NOT OKAY!"

The spokesman laughed and was like "How do you expect him to pay?" And that was the pisser because the kid was right -- how DID I expect him to pay? He hardly spoke English, he was like 14, his parents probably couldn't afford to pay either and if I decided to call the police, I GUARANTEEEEEEEEEEEE they'd all be back on their bikes in a split second and they'd be gone, I'd still be up shit creek AND I'd have missed boot camp.

ARGHG_!*$@#*$)(#$)(@*#$HGHSEFI@U#)(@!*#$_(*!@$#LKJSER(!*@#$)(!!!!!

And sure enough, the kid got back up and rode away -- not like he was running away from me, but (and this is more annoying than if he had a fear of getting in trouble or something) like he had no sense of responsibility at all.

So now I'm left with a couple of dents on the passenger side of my car and, as I noticed this morning, a big scratch of missing paint. The kid is probably feeling pretty crappy today too, but I hope he learned his lesson.

That little shit.