THE FLYING RUBBER INCIDENT

Ever been in a situation where you’re happily driving along, then you’re suddenly faced with a split-second decision, and whatever decision you make, you know you’re fucked?

I was thinking just the other day that I haven’t had much to blog about lately, because life is pretty boring at the moment.

Then the universe intervenes with a piece of flying rubber.

You see, I left the office a little late the other night, and as such, was fearful of being late for my much needed osteo appointment (because of my fucked knee and back.  Yep – still going with that).

I’m cruising along the Donnybrook Road, heading toward the Hume, looking at the clock, thinking ‘I’m gonna make this – awesome’, as I take the turnoff onto the Hume.

I’m sitting behind a truck: a horse transportation truck, to be exact.  I was admiring this truck, because it appeared to be pretty new.  It was clean and shiny and beautiful, and cruising along nicely as we sped along the connecting lane between Donnybrook Road and the Hume.

I’m sitting quite a few car lengths behind this shiny, new truck, when I see something move underneath it. 

Suddenly, this object flies up from under the truck, and it’s a huge piece of rubber!  It looked like a massive, oversized mudflap, and it flew up into the jet stream (for want of a better word) behind the truck, and headed straight for the front of my car.

This is when I was faced with that split-second decision.

In the moments that followed I realised that without a doubt, this thing was going to hit my car.  There was no way for me to avoid it; no way.  I could only minimise the damage.   

The truck and I were travelling too fast; only about 90-95kmph, cos we were building up speed along the ramp, but fast enough for the distance between myself and the rubber to pass in seconds.

Seconds. 

Seconds is all it took for me to see it, realise it was going to hit me, and make the decision to swerve.

Just as the rubber slammed into the front, drivers side of the car.

HOLY FUCK!! I screamed, gripping the steering wheel like my fucken life depended on it.

Blue pieces of what I later realised was my bumper bar, flew in all fucken directions as the piece of rubber flew over the top of my car, and I struggled desperately to not only control the car post-impact, but steady my hammering heart.

Just what I need; another fucken heart attack.

As I looked in the side mirror, I could see the rubber float down to the side of the road; pieces of my bumper scattering around it.

As I hit the indicator and brakes, I pulled into the service lane as the front end started making some fucken weird noises.

I made the car safe, leapt out, and stumbled forward (with my fucked up knee) to inspect the damage.

Holy fuck!  Half the bumper bar’s gone!  WTF? 

I looked back toward the connecting lanes, but couldn’t see any of the debris.  It was too far back around the bend.

Half of the front of my fucken car is missing!  How the fuck does a piece of rubber do that?  There were pieces of the stone guard, stone tray and fuck knows what else hanging from the front of it!

What the fuck am I going to do now?  I can’t drive this! This shit could fall off while I’m driving, and not only do more damage to my car, but could fly off and damage someone elses car…

Charlie… I need Charlie…

‘Are you okay?’ a voice came from behind me, and I spun around.  The car that was travelling behind me had stopped, and the driver was strolling toward me.

‘Yeah… yeah… I’m okay.’ I smiled.  ‘A little surprised though…’ I turned back to the car.

‘Holy shit!  That did a lot of damage!’ he said, inspecting the front of the car.  ‘I wouldn’t think a piece of rubber would do that…’

‘You saw it?’

‘Sort of…. I saw something hit your car, and this big rubber thing flew over the top and pieces of your car went everywhere… I knew you’d hit something…’

‘More like something hit me…’

‘Where did it come from?’

‘Under the truck I was following.’

‘Really?’ I nodded.  ‘It must have been laying on the road or something…’ he said, getting down on his hands and knees to look under the car.  ‘There’s a bit of shit jammed under here…’ he said, and pulled forward my stone guard and stone tray.’

‘Fuck me…’ I muttered in disbelief.

‘You can’t drive her like this love…’ he said, getting to his feet.  ‘Have you got someone you can call?  Can I give you a lift somewhere?  I’m heading into Wallan?’ he offered.

How fucken kind of him.  My faith in humanity had been restored, even for just a moment.  What a fucken nice man.

‘Oh thank you… that’s really kind of you, but my hubby is in Kilmore.  I’ll just give him a call, and maybe he’s got something that he can remove this with or make the car safe enough to drive somewhere…’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Absolutely.  Thank you so much for stopping.’

‘No problems.  I just wanted to make sure you were okay.’ He smiled.  ‘I’ll leave you to it?’

‘Sure.  I’ll give my hubby a call now.’ I smiled, and we parted.

I climbed back into my car, and realised that it was 5.45pm.  I wasn’t going to make the osteo.  I made a quick call to them, and left an apology on their answering machine.  I felt so fucken guilty, but I knew she’d understand.  Particularly when one of my bffl’s works for her! She’d set her straight J

Then I realised that Charlie would be at the gym, and his fucken phone would be in his locker.  I gave it a try, and it went straight to message bank.  He has no reception in the leisure centre.

I rang the leisure centre’s number, and explained to the gorgeous girl who I was, and I needed to speak to my beloved, who’s phone would be in his locker.  ‘Charlie Buttler is his name, and he’ll either be in the gym, or in the pool with a snorkel on, doing laps.’

God bless her, because about five minutes later, he called me.

‘I’ll leave now… be about half an hour, though I don’t know if there is much that I can do… maybe I can make it safe enough for you to drive home.’

‘Ok… I’ll see you in half an hour babe.’

‘You shall, my love.’ I hung up from Charlie, and settled in to wait, flicking through my phone. 

What the fuck had just happened? I mused.  I can’t believe it…  I can’t believe that a piece of rubber has just fucked the front of my car!  I really shouldn’t drive it… there’s too much shit hanging off the front of it… it’s not roadworthy… it’s dangerous… I really don’t know if I should drive it…. maybe I should get it towed… I know my insurance covers that… I think RACV would too… have I paid my RACV? It’s going to have to be repaired, so insurance would be the best bet… maybe I should just get it towed…

The harsh beep of a reversing alarm pulled me from my thoughts, and I saw a flat-tray tow truck in the service lane, reversing toward me.

What the fuck? 

I clambered out of my car (fucken knee) and met the driver part way.  ‘What on earth makes you think I need your help?’ I smirked.

He laughed. ‘I was just driving home, and I saw you here, and I thought I wonder what’s happened to her… then I saw this-‘ he pointed to the front of the car.   ‘What happened?’

‘You’ll never believe it…’ I gave him quick run down of the flying rubber incident, and he too got down on his hands and knees and looked under the front of the car.

He clambered back to his feet.  ‘Look… I wouldn’t recommend driving it.’ he said.  ‘I know that it sounds like I’m just trying to sell my services, but I know from experience that some underwriters will not insure you if you drive your car like this, after an accident, and either cause more damage or have another accident.’ He explained.  ‘It’s not roadworthy.  With all of this panelling hanging from the front… it’s just unsafe, and I wouldn’t drive it.’

‘Funny… I was thinking the same thing.’

‘Look, who are you insured with?’

‘Allianz.’ Images of blow up cars and ah-ah-ahhlllianz popped into my head.

‘Good.  We’re an Allianz approved tower.  Where do you live?’

‘Tooby.’

‘Cool.  I can load her up, take her to Morgan’s in Heathcote for repairs, and drop you home on the way.’

WOW!  This guy was freaking awesome!!  ‘I’ve just called my hubby; he’ll be here in ten minutes to pick me up anyway, thank you, but I think we’ll load her up.  She’s fucked, and I’m not keen to drive her like that.  Knowing my luck, bits will fly off-of her and kill someone.’

He found that most amusing.  ‘I’ll just go get the paperwork, and then we’ll load her up.’

Fifteen minutes later, I was trying not to cry at the site of my little baby on the back of a tow truck whilst Charlie and Dave the Tow Truck Driver had a good old chat about how cars are all fucken plastic now.

As I clambered into Charlie’s ute, gave my new mate Dave-the-tow-truck-driver a wave goodbye, I thanked God for two things.  One: for car insurance.  Two: for clauses in my car insurance policy that permitted me a hire car whilst my car was being repaired.  Well, for two weeks at least anyway.

Here’s hoping that the panel beater can get my baby back in time.

Merry fucken Christmas.

I wonder if the truck even realised he’d caused an accident?  I wondered as Charlie hummed along the highway.  May give them a call to see….

Later that evening, I rang Allianz, explained about the flying rubber incident, and lodged a claim on my policy.  I don’t think the chick at Allianz quite believed me… don’t blame her really… I suddenly had visions of her hanging up, sticking her head over the top of her cublicle (like the dorks on the RACV ads), and telling everyone ‘Well, I’ve got a live one here!’

Like I give a fuck.  I’m insured; fix the fucken car and get me a hire car.  Hopefully, I can pick one up on the weekend, and hopefully I’ll get my car back before Christmas.

*sigh

I don’t even want to think about that now.  All I can see is my poor baby being towed away on the back of a truck because of a piece of fucken rubber.  Poor baby.

Peace out?