My typical Friday evenings, for probably the last 8 years or so (I like routine) has been dinner out with the fam. Because I don't see them enough or anything. And I'm guaranteed one day a week to see Hitlter and Ava's dynamic duo...getting a boo and baby fix. Some Friday's things change- I might have different plans, Hitler or the parentals might be up to something. This Friday I was going to dine out with Hitler and Ava and the boys, and the parents were to go out with Bobo, his little wifey, their little babykins, and wifey's parents who are visiting from Idaho.
I get to mom's house at my usual time, to drop off Fatty (because he doesn't stay home alone, and goes where ever I go, it's a mess, I know, but I embrace). I head out to go to Hitler's. In the driveway, my phone rings. It's mom. "Did you take the stuff off the table to take to Hitler's?" Which I didn't because I didn't know I needed to. Go in and get a 4-pack of juice for the baby. Obviously this is very important juice. I grab, I get in the car, and I back out of the driveway.
CRUNCH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
FUCK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Pull back into the driveway. The kid across the street...he and I backed into each other. Fucking fabulous. I text Hitler there might be a delay. I walk up to the kid, I see a on the bumper, driver side, a decent dent. I ask if he's okay and what not, and point to the dent. He said no- that I hit him on the other side. He's got a black car- and I see all white paint on the side of his bumper. He said he wants to get his mom. I said fine. I call my dad to get in the front, with a run down of what just occurred. Kid's mom looks at the car, starts touching the white painted bumper, and the paint is just wiping off. I go to look at my car... the bumper has a giant black hickey and my tail light is busted. YAY! So kid's mom decides to call hubby. She comes back and says hubby just wants to exchange info, in case a claim needs to be filed, and he's a lawyer. Dad looks at me..."L, call the cops". So I ring, give the low down again. Meanwhile my phone is going bonkers with texts from Hitler and Bobo... asking what's going on and what not. Blah, blah, blah...
The cop comes about 30min later. Nice and timely. Pro- he's cute. After taking our info, he says basically- damages are $100-200 on each car, a police report isn't really needed, because there's no real damage and no injuries...however if we want one, he'll file one, if we want to handle this on our own that's fine too. Meanwhile the kid's lawyer dad comes home. He said he's fine without filing a report, exchanging information, in case a claim needs to be filed, then the info's had. To which my dad said that he wants an official report if there's talk of claim filing in the future. I'm staying quiet, lawyer dad is irking me...Then the LD said that he hasn't had a chance to test drive the car for internal damages and doesn't want to say that there won't be a claim, because we can't see what's going on under the bumper...and that my damage is just cosmetic.
Cosmetic??? My fucking tail light is busted and I have a giant black scratch... The kid wiped off all the white paint and you can't even tell he was bumped. Fuck you dude....But I'm taking the silent approach and keeping the lips sealed, because with that comment, I was ready to flip, and in turn, make things much worse.
Meanwhile, while all this is going on..all I could think about was "If I hadn't gone back for that fucking juice that's been sitting on the table for a week that mom couldn't take to Hitler's herself, because driving a mile was too much out of the way...none of this would have happened".
So we file a police report...mom and dad leave for their dinner with the golden boy bobo. Hitler's texting..."what's going on" "you coming up here" " you want food" "you want us to bring you back something"... Police report-no-no-no. Dad calls less then 5min after he leaves..."what's going on". I inform I'm filling out the change of information form-he flips. Tells me not to give any info, blah, blah , blah. I try to calmly explain that this is needed for the official police report, blah, blah, blah. Report completed- kid drives off to where ever he's little 19yr old self has to go, I go back into mom's house. I'm too irked and pissed to eat.
Around 830, mom and dad walk in. Mom looks at the table "You didn't take the juice to Hitler????"
FUCK THE GODDAMN JUICE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! OMG!!!!!!!!!!!! IT'S BECAUSE OF THE FUCKING JUICE I GOT INTO THE FUCKING ACCIDENT!!!!!!!!!!!
Calmly I say no- didn't go anywhere, irked, blah, blah, blah. Mom replies with a disappointed "Oh" followed by "let's watch buffy!!!" Turn on Buffy and catch the last 30min of the episode. And I go home.
Today I go to mom's to drop of Fatty, again. Boo and I have a "boo date" to see Gnomeo and Juliet. Plus Sunday's I'm at mom's anyways. What's sitting on the table still?? The fucking juice. Yesterday Dad went to watch Boo's 3 yr old baseball practice...did he take the juice with him?? Noooooo.....but this juice was soooo important Friday night, that I had to come back for it. Apparently it's not so important that Dad needed to bring it with him to the park. When I leave to go to Hitler's to get my stud for the date...I grab the goddamned fucking juice. Just the site kinda pisses me off. I bring it to Hitler's. I drop it on the counter "here's the fucking juice that ruined my Friday night"....
Fucking juice.
Rock out, juicy.
