1986 - I have found it

Picture it, Port Orange, a city about 4 miles South of Daytona Beach, FL.  The year was 1986.  The month, August.  I was 16 years old.  I'd had my drivers license for exactly 1 month.  My family had moved to Port Orange in June.  I was in a new city, a new driver, and on my way to a job that I'd had for only 2 weeks.

Now that you have the background, let me get to the nitty fucking gritty.  It was probably around 100 degrees with 150% humidity (If you've been to FL you know this to be true), it was pouring rain and I was tooling along in my fancy new-to-me, hand me down Chevy Chevette.   I was cool.  You know it.

I was sitting at a red light in the left hand lane, wipers going eleventy million mph, waiting to make my left turn to complete my 2 mile drive to work.  I make the turn, and whoa...what the shit?  The car began to slide up onto the 2 foot high median (We didn't have that shit in IL), and into oncoming traffic.  Well me being the awesome 16 year old, non experienced driver that I was, cut the wheel all-the-way to the right to avoid the oncoming traffic.  Awesome idea, right?  Right? Right?  Come on, you know it wasn't right.  I have 2 words for you - Florida  Ice.  Yes, some hillbilly Florida phenomenon that occurs during and after the rain.  Apparently this happens everywhere but in Florida it's worse because of the extreme temperatures.  The oil and other chemicals that have soaked into the concrete come up to the surface because science happens or some shit.  Whatever.  It made the roads extremely slippery.

New driver + New city + Slippery road

Know what happened next?  Can you guess?  I'll bet you can't.  As my car literally flung itself to the right after the cutting the wheel, it then went up over the sidewalk and right through the plate glass window of a drapery shop. Right through the window of a brick building.  Yes, the damn shop was open.  Yes, there were people inside.  No, nobody got hurt.  Those bitches ran fast and I was wearing my seat belt.  And here was the front end of my new-to-me Chevy Chevette jammed inside a store. Holy balls of fuck.

A whole bunch of witnesses came to check on me (I was a cute young blond girl) until the police arrived.  There was flurry of action and I was, well I was 16.  I didn't know what the fuck to do or what the fuck to say.  Finally, the police came and he walked over to me (I was still in the car) and asked how I was.  My response - "I have found it" - one of those weird family sayings we had that came from a movie and, no I don't remember which one.  Loosely, it meant the shit hit the fan and I found it.  Also, I do what I always do when I'm going to lose all control of my bodily functions, giggled like a bitch.  All I remember after that was me begging the cop not to call my Dad because he was going to chop me up into little pieces and bury in the backyard.  He was going to k i l l me. My giggles had turned to tears at this point. (Anything to avoid my Dad coming) Of course the cop didn't believe any of that shit and 5 minutes later...

My parents showed up.  Both of them.  My Dad walked over to the car and that big, scary, bastard, who I was terrified of, laughed his ass off.  He was crying because he was laughing so hard.  I was kinda pissed.  Here I was shitting myself and this fuck is laughing.  My mom was laughing too.  Even the cop was laughing at this point.  Dicks.  They were laughing at the dumb ass 16 year old girl who drove through a building.  Looking back it was really funny.  Nobody got hurt and shit happens.  My Dad told me that everybody had to have their first accident and he was glad mine was so awesome. So that.  I then reversed the car out of the building and drove my ass to work.  Yes, the Chevy Chevette that had driven through the building, was drivable.  And, yes, I went to work.  Why not? Wiped my tears, shook it off, and went to make my money.

When the dust (literally) had settled, I ended having to pay for 1/2 of the car repair which wasn't too bad.  It was mostly dumb stuff.  The building?  I got a letter about 4 months later saying that the building was supposed to have been condemned and closed and that owners had never complied with the city so I was not responsible for the repairs.  The store stayed open for a few years after that but was ultimately demolished about 10 years ago for some huge development that was supposed to be built (still hasn't happened).

So, yeah, this isn't even my most embarassing story.  Lesson - the Chevy Chevette could really take a beating.

Truth: A few years later when I was taking a defensive driving course (No, I didn't learn my lesson after that first accident) the instructor used my story as a crash example.  Yep.  I got to take a bow. I'm famous.  Famous for being an idiot.

PPB aka The Precious Princess - The Princess is a twice divorced, recently dumped, recently unemployed, self-proclaimed member of the mentally hilarious. She has been referred to as living under a rock stocked with vodka and anger. Her 12 year old “Mini”, who is carbon copy of the Princess, is often the subject of blogs, and Facebook posts. In addition, she writes about dating, the dumbness of boys, life after 40, and shares stories from Bananaland which is both her past and current residence.  She is the owner/sole admin for the Facebook page Precious Princess's Guide to Bananaland where she is famous for her rants and her blunt, honest, and sarcastic look at life.  She blogs both extremely funny and all-the-feels posts at Princess Bananaland.  She hates people, kids, and karaoke. She uses all the swears and makes up dirty words.  Eventually when she’s done being sloth-like, she will write a book.  Be afraid.