My poor truck!

What a week this has been for my poor old truck. On Tuesday, I'm at work and I look down at my truck to see a ticket on it. I park with a handicapped placrie on the street. You get to park for four hours. Of course I work eight. Usually I can get a handicapped parking place if I get to work about an hour early. I don't mind that so much, I get maybe one tricket a month, So it's worth it.

Then a little while later, Carrie comes up and asks me if I consider my truck a beater. Hmmm, odd question. She goes on about how she has a car that she doesn't mind if it gets a ding as it's so old, blah blah blan. I'm wondering where this is going when she tells me that someone hit my truck while trying to park next to a fire hydrant. I go look at it and truth to tell, couldn't see where it had been hit. It's a 1995 truck after all and had a few dings already. So no biggie.

My friend Karen had given me two bags of clothes to give to our co-worker Wendy, but the bags were very heavy so I had left them in the truck and told Wendy that I would give her a ride to her car which is about two blocks away. This is a parking garage for the county employees. Of course end of day, everyone is trying to leave. I park next to Wendy's car, move the bags over and let her pull out first. As she's pulling out she doesn't back up quite enough and then SHE hits me, leaving a dent.

I think from now I'll take a cab!

My poor truck!