My dad taught me to be honest.
To a fault. Always. No matter what.
I grew up hearing that the worst thing you could ever be was a liar. That once you've lost someone's trust, you can't ever gain it back. That honesty holds importance above and beyond all else.
My dad also taught me how to drive.
One of those lessons he taught me very well. The other, not so much.
I’ll give you two guesses which was which.
My dad and I have always had a good relationship. Yes, there were many bumps along the way, and there were even those few years where we had no relationship at all. But at the heart of it – we have always been very close.
Except for when he was teaching me how to drive that is. During that time, I would describe us as anything but close. There was a lot of yelling, a lot of threats, and more than a few tears over that year.
To be fair to my dad, I can be a bit of a ditz sometimes. Not in the dumb blond who doesn’t know any better kind of way, but more in the dumb blond who always manages to get distracted kind of way.
As if there's much of a difference.
An inability to focus is a huge fault of mine though. I tend to get so caught up in my own head that I become completely distracted from the world around me. In most facets of my life, I’ve managed to find ways to still function despite this fatal flaw. But in driving – distraction is never really a good thing.
I will never forget the time my dad told me to change lanes on a neighborhood street and as I looked over my left shoulder to ensure there were no cars, I turned the wheel just enough to drive his suburban up onto the sidewalk to my right.
Thank goodness there were no pedestrians out for a stroll that night.
My dad lost a gasket though. Screaming and yelling and for a moment there – I’m pretty sure he thought about hitting me.
Who can blame him though. At that point, I had been driving for almost 6 months already.
And clearly; I still belonged in the parking lot.
In fact, it’s fair to argue that I still belong in the parking lot.
Not because I’m an aggressive driver. Or a speed-a-holic. Or an asshole on the road.
But because; I get distracted.
And last night, when I was pulling into my garage after work, I might have pulled in a little too tightly. Kind of like I did a few years ago. Only then – I only damaged my car.
This time, I took the whole garage down with me.
In my defense – someone hit it a few months back as well. At my condo, we have a shared garage for 8 different cars. Back in February, someone ran head on into it. The garage door didn’t close for about a week before the condo association fixed it to the point of functionality. I got the impression that the person who did it never came forward though, because they didn’t fix the garage entirely. It still had a big dent down the middle, and it’s needed to be recalibrated (or whatever) a few times since then because it has just randomly stopped working.
Which really just makes this situation so much worse. Because I’m pretty sure that previous accident contributed to the devastation of this one. And I'm also pretty sure I'm going to end up paying for the entire thing to be fixed.
It’s not like I hit the garage head on. I just hit the one metal piece on the side. And bent it. A little teeny tiny bit.
But now, it’s all completely out of whack. Incapable of rolling down at all. And totally bent up on itself in a way that cannot be normal.
I broke the garage.
And that is one stupid fee I am dreading paying.
But what did I do as soon as the accident occurred?
I walked right upstairs and called my condo association to confess all.
After hours. Which means that I left a voicemail professing my complete and total guilt in the demise of the shared garage door.
I could have gotten away with it. No one saw me. I’m sure the assumption amongst the residents here is that whatever is going on with the garage door now has to do with that previous accident.
I could have gotten away with it.
But my dad taught me to be honest.
Even if he didn’t teach me how to drive.
And now, I’m pretty sure that lethal combination of honesty and poor driving skills is going to cost me. Big time. I’m not sure how much garage doors cost – but I have a sad feeling that the entire thing is going to need to be repaired at this point.
And that I’m going to be stuck holding the bill.
Which for those of you paying attention – will be two accidents reported to my insurance company in just over 3 months.
Two minor, seemingly insignificant accidents that are very clearly going to end up costing me.
Even though they are the only two accidents I’ve ever had to report to my insurance company in all of my 12 years of driving.
It’s still going to cost me.
All because my dad raised me to be too honest for my own good.
And because he failed miserably at teaching me to drive.
Which I think probably means that he should be on the hook for at least half of this bill.
That seems fair, right?
ADSPACE
