My Rear End......................

My Rear End................

Well, my car's rear end, to be exact.

I live in lovely Prince Edward County, home of 32 wineries (and counting).  And many farms growing all sorts of fresh produce, available in their roadside stands, paid for by a cash lock box.

On Friday I drove past Bloomfield (as cute as it sounds) towardsWellington, to the pick-your-own apple farm listed in the paper.  Six varieties of apples.  Sounded good!  Not so confident about climbing a ladder or whatever to actually extract apples from trees.

I found the farm and its 5-digit 'street' address.  Happily, bags and baskets of **already-picked** lovely fruit were at the roadside.  Small bags, larger  bags, and plastic bags inside peck and half-peck baskets.  Is it 2 pecks to the bushel?  No bushels available.  (Hey, I guess we aren't exactly metric yet, after - what, 40 years??).  Not that I'd know what to do with a hectoliter or whatever.............!!

But I digress.

The sign with apple prices and corresponding sizes was on the table.  And a cash box.  That opened
when you slid the manual lock to the side. With money inside.  I could have taken the whole box.  No chain.  No locking lock.  Free money.  Now that's trust in humanity!

I bought a peck for $10.  I had a $20.  I took change consisting of a $5 bill, 2 toonies and a loonie.  (It's great to be in Canada.)  Staggered to the car with about 30 lb. of apples in the plastic bag lining the peck basket.  The sign said I could have the wooden basket for another $5.  No thanks, maybe another time.

So I head back towards Bloomfield.  Some a**hole in a noisy truck couldn't stand driving behind me (at a smidgen above the speed limit) so roared past me, only to find himself in front of me, but behind an even slower car.  BTW, he had the regular licence plate, and above it a 'joke' licence plate that said I GOTTA PEE.  Wowsa.  That's classy!

At the end of the road, I stopped at the stop sign, indicating my right turn.  Traffic both ways.  Lifted my foot from the brake and    BLAM!  My car was propelled 2 m. ahead under the force of the car behind me. 

I got out to look at the bumper.  The other driver bzzzzzed her window down electrically.  "I thought you were going,"  she said.  "Well, evidently not!  Until your car pushed me forward!!" I replied hotly. 

"I'm reeeeely sorry," says she, not sounding sorry at all.

"Do you have a cell phone?  Let's call the police."

"I don't think there's much damage.  I'll pay for everything."

There were now two vehicles behind us.  The guilty driver suggested that we pull around the corner to exchange information.  Now my body was involuntarily shaking.  I could barely get the pen and paper out of my purse.   Writing legibly was next to impossible.  So now I had her name, car licence number, driver's licence number and home phone number.  I hope I gave her my right phone number.  It was hard to remember under so much stress.

And my five-month-old car now has a crease or two in its back bumper.  Beautiful.

I got home, called the OPP with the details, and later a constable came to my home to look at the car.  The operator said she'd just had her bumper replaced and it cost $1000.  ($1000 is the minimum cost of repairs where you have to report the accident).  The constable didn't think it would be that much. Gave me his card, said if she didn't pay to call him.  Phoned the Honda dealer to find out they don't do any body work.  (Whaaaat??).  Recommended two place to get estimates.  Hmmmph.