I hate breaking things....

I really hate breaking things. It makes me sad to see something come apart by my hand. And yesterday I broke something really big.

I was trying to park at a Wal-Mart, and I suck at parking. I had pulled a bit too far forward, and so I began to get too close to this rust-coloured XTerra. So, naturally, I braked. Or so I thought. Instead, I shot forward into the XTerra, shattering the taillight and badly denting the bumper.

You know those rocks that form in the pit of your stomach? Yeah...

Mom asked some employees that saw the incident to fetch their manager. When he came out, he paged the store so the owner could come out. He was really weird, I thought. He was quite persistent that we not call the police to make a report. Maybe he gets docked manager points for accidents in his parking lot....Anyway, the owner came out of the store, and when I saw him, I began to cry. I expected him to blow up or something. He was really nice though; he instantly forgave me, he told me that's why they're called 'accidents,' etc. I was so relieved also when the police officer came. He was very kind and since I am so inexperienced (I'm assuming that was the reason) didn't cite me.

Charles (the owner of the XTerra) called his insurance and we exchanged information and all the usual stuff that you do in a fender-bender. The whole time I was just staring at the twisted bumper being depressed and crying.

And when it was all over, we did our shopping.

And that is my exciting event of the week.