Before driving back to Brooklyn today, I had a few errands to run — get an oil change; return a dress; go to the bank; grown-up stuff — and when I was looking over my shoulder to see if it was clear to merge onto 95S, some guy rammed into the back of my car. I think he saw the “WHAT THE FUCK” that immediately propelled itself from my throat, because he’s waving his hands frantically and mouthing “I’M SORRYYYY” as big as he can so he knows for sure I’ll understand him. There’s no safe place to pull over, so he runs over to my car, asks if I’m okay, asks if it’s okay if I follow him to the next exit, he’s so sorry, I say sure, he says sorry again, he runs away barely avoiding getting swiped by a truck.

We pull over in Lexington. I get out and check the back of my car, and there’s nothing wrong with it, save for an ugly black rubber smear from his bumper that’ll likely come off with some elbow grease. His bumper’s fine, save a small nick in the chrome, but he’s totally pissed at himself because it’s a rental and he doesn’t know what the hell’s gonna happen and and and and.

I start cracking jokes, just saying that he scared the shit out of me and he didn’t chip the paint on my car so we’re cool. He laughs it off, and goes “Well FUCK, I mean, it’s a rental. And I’m coming from a job interview for a job I don’t think I want, but I need. And this WEEK—” and at this point, I laugh, and interrupt him, all “Hey, I’m heading home to New York at the moment or was until you rear-ended me, but I was up here for my grandfather’s funeral. And my mom’s birthday. I hear you.” The guy starts laughing again: “MY grandfather just died TOO. AND I’m in the middle of a divorce!” I start laughing. “EVERYTHING IS TERRIBLE!” He starts laughing. “I KNOW!” So, we laugh and are all like, “Fuuuck life, man, right?” and exchange insurance information etc.

He was super nice and I needed a reminder that perspective’s a really important thing to keep, no matter how messy stuff gets. Even if it takes a butt bump from an SUV to do it.