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Seriously. I can’t even make up this stuff.

I’ll make this one short to make up for how long yesterday’s was. (Thaaaaaat’swhatshesaid?)

This is another one of those “only in my life” sort of stories, similar to yesterday’s post about the Golden Corral.

So, yesterday I was on my way to the gym for my second session with my trainer, Barry. I have to drive through a section of the freeway which has been Construction Zone Hell for the last few months – concrete walls, orange barrels, approximately 15 feet in which oncoming cars get to merge, the whole shebang. There’s an SUV to my left and a concrete wall to my right. I’m cruising along, enjoying the sounds of 90s alternative rock, thanks to my new favorite station.

Suddenly, the wind picked up.

They Ain't So Tough..

They Ain’t So Tough.. (Photo credit: Mr. Ducke)

You see that mashed-up orange barrel? One that looked identical to that began blowing into the road in front of me, rolling over itself like a plastic tumbleweed.

I’m going to get a little cliche with you now, so just bear with me. It was like a slow-motion scene in a movie. You see, I have a car that isn’t quite three years old, yet. I’m a very cautious person and I’ve never let anything happen to my precious car. (Yeah – you with the runaway grocery cart. I keel you.) So, I panicked.

I couldn’t go left, due to the SUV and as I said, there was a concrete wall to my right.

Horrified by the bailout.

(Photo credit: cdresz)

I’m going to hit it, I accepted. There’s no way around it.I hit the brakes to lessen the speed of impact. I even swerved a little, so I wouldn’t hit it completely head-on.

After what seemed like five minutes of scrunching my eyes and white-knuckling my steering wheel, I finally heard it.

BAM.

I seriously thought I was going to puke. Images of the cavernous dent in the front of my car filled my mind. My hands shook furiously. I wondered who I would have to call to sue the State of  Ohio for their clearly incompetent workers, who would allow a barrel to just float across a busy stretch of highway. By the time I got to the gym, I was surprised that I had even made it there, since obviously the front of my car had been reduced to scrap metal.

I got out and squatted to examine the damage, with a pit in my stomach.

No dent. Seriously?? There were some globs of grease smeared on the bumper, and maybe some slight scuffs of the paint underneath, but no substantial damage to be seen.

So, amazingly enough, nothing really happened. In about 30 minutes, I’ll be driving through that same construction zone on my way to work. Do you think anyone would judge me if I attached a snow plow to the front of my compact car?