Bumper Literally to Bumper
My car got mildly run into on the drive home from work this afternoon: I was stopped in a slightly denser than usual mass of stop-and-go traffic on I-66 East when a car ran into the car stopped behind me. Very slow speed, nobody hurt.
The three of us pulled over halfway into the grassy median and quickly exchanged our information. The woman who was driving the car in back wrote down her policy number on one of her business cards. The guy from the middle car asked if I wanted his info and then started to do the same; I noticed his card was from the company I work for.
Nate: Oh, you work for ___________! Me too.
Guy from Middle Car: I know, I see you around all the time.
Nate: Oh. ...Yeah, me too.
In retrospect I guess he looked kind of familiar, though I may just be covering for myself given that between the two of us we're something like 1.5% of the company's domestic workforce. I handed him my numbers written on an old card from my last job with that business number scratched out, which seemed slightly less classy.
Anyway, my bumper cover is somewhat looser than usual and extremely lightly scratched and the trunk floor might have gotten flexed a little, so hopefully I'll just do my follow-up call with Progressive tomorrow morning and then go have my car checked out at some body shop on somebody else's insurer's dollar. I guess one good thing about the citizenry's stubborn refusal to widen I-66 inside the Beltway is that at peak times it's hard for anyone to get going fast enough to inflict any serious damage.
The three of us pulled over halfway into the grassy median and quickly exchanged our information. The woman who was driving the car in back wrote down her policy number on one of her business cards. The guy from the middle car asked if I wanted his info and then started to do the same; I noticed his card was from the company I work for.
Nate: Oh, you work for ___________! Me too.
Guy from Middle Car: I know, I see you around all the time.
Nate: Oh. ...Yeah, me too.
In retrospect I guess he looked kind of familiar, though I may just be covering for myself given that between the two of us we're something like 1.5% of the company's domestic workforce. I handed him my numbers written on an old card from my last job with that business number scratched out, which seemed slightly less classy.
Anyway, my bumper cover is somewhat looser than usual and extremely lightly scratched and the trunk floor might have gotten flexed a little, so hopefully I'll just do my follow-up call with Progressive tomorrow morning and then go have my car checked out at some body shop on somebody else's insurer's dollar. I guess one good thing about the citizenry's stubborn refusal to widen I-66 inside the Beltway is that at peak times it's hard for anyone to get going fast enough to inflict any serious damage.
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