Okay, the car is officially a member of the gang. She got bumped.
I seem to recall that every car that has been part of my life got hit very early on. The van got hit in the sliding door so many times that we finally stopped fixing it.
I was at the Alameda Credit Union, the very place that granted me the loan for this sweet ride, and a lady backed her car right into me. I saw her back up lights come on, but there was no time for me to get out of the way. "Oh, I didn't see you!" she said.
Which is kind of a relief. I'd hate to think she'd seen me, and ran into me anyway. She also didn't hear my horn. But everyone else did!
We traded info, and I'll get a price to do the repairs. Fiberglass and a custom paint job: yikes. She wants to know a figure before she contacts her insurance company, and I think that's fine.
Man, this really tests me. Not so much my love of things; the car is just a thing. Entropy tears things down. It's pretty futile to get upset over things. It is a test of where the heck am I gonna find the energetic resources to put this thing back right again?