I have decided that my car is bad luck. I’m not sure what I did, but apparently my possessed, little Cobalt decided it hates me. I generally don’t believe in luck, but after a total of five accidents in the past 15 months, I do. That’s right, it isn’t a typo – five accidents.
If all of them were my fault, I’d gladly take the blame. However, three, arguably four, of the incidents were completely out of my control.
The first accident occurred about six months after I bought the vehicle. I was on my way to class one December morning when I hit a patch of ice on I-480. Technically, this one was probably my fault; I can’t control the weather, but I can control my reactions to it. And of course I reacted in the worst way possible.
As I felt the car sliding out of control on the slippery pavement, I decided to stomp on my brake pedal, sending my car into a tailspin. While I didn’t hit any other vehicles, I did cause a considerable amount of damage to a guardrail (which the city of Maple Heights later billed me for).
Accident No. 2 was rather minor, but still upsetting. Last summer I came out to my vehicle to find a bright yellow scuff on the corner of my bumper – apparently someone had clipped my rear end and decided not to leave a note. I have yet to identify the culprit and while the yellow paint was able to be buffed out, several large scratches remain.
Not convinced that my car hates me? This past fall, during a wind storm, a brick just happened to come loose from the chimney on my neighbor’s home – care to guess where it landed? Yes, even though my car was parked at least seven feet away, the brick still managed to land on it. Did it jump? I just don’t get it.
At this point, I had decided that my car is simply attracted to trouble. Or perhaps it’s the opposite; maybe trouble seeks out my car. Either way I was reaching the end of my rope.
With this track record, Thanksgiving Break would not have been complete without something unfortunate happening. A day after Turkey Day, I was stopped at a red light and wouldn’t you know it, I was hit from behind. I began to think that there was a sign visible to all but me that read ‘hit me’ affixed to my car.
To make matters worse, the person who hit me decided that it would be a good idea to back up and speed off, which he would have realized was a bad idea if he had bothered to look around and notice that a police car was on the opposite side of the traffic light. The 17-year-old unlicensed, uninsured driver was caught about five minutes later, and the vehicle he hit me with did not belong to him – go figure.
Bear with me, there’s just one more. As both Summer and Thanksgiving Breaks brought accidents, it would only stand to reason that Spring Break would hold the same fate. And it did.
Unfortunately, the damages were a bit more severe than the last few incidents, costing more than $5,000 (thank God for insurance). So, the Chevy dealership decided that they’d need at least one to two weeks to repair everything. Living roughly 40 minutes away (and that’s not accounting for traffic), it isn’t exactly easy to be without a vehicle. So, my week was less than fabulous.
I’ve decided to put my car up for sale this summer. On the up side, just about every part of the car’s body has been replaced. Anyone interested in a freshly painted, possessed Chevy Cobalt? I’ll give you an excellent deal.