And in the end...

I was just about ready to crawl home and call it a day with the way things began this morning. For starters, I scratched my leg on a piece of metal sticking out from my futon. My dad slept on it last night, and I'd folded it up to sit on it. Turns out that nearly a third of the cross supports had broken and one was jutting out. No, my dad didn't do it. Although I didn't quite realize it, the weak welds snapped long ago. (I knew that something wasn't right, but I didn't think it was this.)

The scratch was painful enough, but I was not thrilled at the prospect of having to replace my main piece of furniture, which I purchased when I moved into my current apartment two years ago. This did not portend good things to come.

Sure enough, the day got worse. After going through the Tim Hortons drive-thru for a coffee and a donut, I got in line to exit the shopping center. What happened next isn't entirely clear to me. I thought the Envoy in front of me had pulled onto the road. I looked to the left, saw an opening, and started going when my dad yelled at me to stop. The vehicle in front of me hadn't gone anywhere. I had rearended it.

I was surprised to see it there. I know the next word out of my mouth was one that has rarely, if ever, passed my lips in front of a parent. Really all I did was rub it. I couldn't have had any speed. (For comparison's sake, I drive a four-door sedan that is not very big.) I don't know that I really did anything to it, although he said it bent some stuff. (Keep in mind that the nose of my car practically fit under his rear bumper.) Much to his credit, the passenger in that vehicle was personable and didn't yell. I was mortified by my mistake. He was headed out on vacation, so I may not hear anything until next week.

So, double whammy. I have a very minor collision with a car, which is probably my first "accident" since 1994. (This was not reported to the police, obviously.) I have to wait for days to hear what he may want done.

I take responsibility for what happened, but I'm unclear about what went on because the person behind me came over and gave me their phone number while saying that I didn't do anything to the other car. She then drove over the curb and around to be on her way. I'm wondering if the driver ahead started out and then either drifted back or should have gone but was dawdling. Like I said, I screwed up, but I felt terrible for at least the next two hours.

And then more car shopping.

In brief, I took a look at three more cars at two dealerships and then headed home with what I thought was a better idea of the specific make and model I wanted. I won't trouble you today with the details of what transpired over the next three-plus hours, but assuming that nothing strange happens with the bank, I've all but sealed the deal on my next car.

The negotiation and some of the other occurrences in this process merit dedicated entries, so I'll finish for today by saying that this evening my dad engineered an unconventional fix of the futon. So maybe this day came out on the plus side after all?