Smelled like wedding cake

It was the summer of 1991, and I had just graduated high school. I could do what I wanted, when I wanted, how I wanted. I was free. Well sort of. That 11 pm curfew at my parents put a damper on my social life. So did the lack of a car. And while I wasn't ready to move out just yet, I did drop some cold hard cash on a set of wheels.

A 1967 Ford Falcon, I named my car Excalibur. Why? Because I was 18, and a rebel without a clue. She was primer black.  Everyday I had to pump up the tires. The headlights only worked on bright. The heat had to be turned from behind the dash. And I had to press the gearshift up as I turned the key to get it to start. But that rust bucket was mine. All mine.

About a week after I bought it, I was on my way to work. It was raining, and I hit a mud puddle. It was then I realized that, under the shag carpet floor mats, there were big holes in the floor board. I got an unplanned shower, and my lifetime of stories about bizarre things happening to me and my cars was born.

I had an 83 Coupe DeVille catch fire when I was warming it up for work. The entire Millersport Volunteer Fire Department showed up at my house. I had a Cavalier i had to push start everyday because the alternator was out. It was an adventure trying to jump in and pop the clutch without getting run over. I had a work truck leave me stranded in the middle of nowhere in Kentucky on a 100 degree day. I had no cell service or water, and I had just gotten the vehicle out of the shop where they had assured me that :you can drive this truck to Alaska and back and have no problems. And don't even get my family started on the the windshield wiper motor incident of 1992.

Even now, in my Mammoth Mobile, strange things continue to unravel. Did you know I was rear-ended 3 times in 3 years in the Flex? Including once by just a tire with no vehicle attached. A wannabe monster truck lost its wheel about 200 feet back from me and it rolled into me at a stop light. Had to have to whole rear bumper replaced. I also had a crack in my windshield earlier this year. I got a new one, only to have a truck spin a bigger rock onto the new glass on the way home from the repair shop. And it was so bad it had to be replaced, again.

But today, today might have taken the cake.

Literally.

I am used to dodging obstacles on East Broad Street here in Columbus. 5 lanes wide and one of the busiest roads Columbus, you almost have to white knuckle the wheel as you maneuver your way through the sea of cars. There is always a COTA bus stopping in front of you. About once a week I see someone trying to play frogger, narrowly avoiding death because taking extra seventeen steps to the crosswalk was just too much to ask. But those pale in comparison to what happened today.

I don't know how a wedding cake box wound up in the middle of the intersection, nor do know how the lady in the Chevy Cruze in front of me didn't see it. But she hit it with her rear tire. And my Flex looked like a a newlywed bride whose husband didn't understand what she meant by "don't smear it in my face".

Did you know that when you mix wedding cake frosting with cleaning chemicals at the Moo Moo car wash,  it becomes harder rather than washing away? True story.  I had to get my ice scraper out.

Still Day # 1340. May have been drywall mud. But it smelled like cake frosting!

Have a great day everyone.






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