Oops

Yesterday I had the sort of experience no one wants to have in a foreign country. Or any country.

When I was dropping Lilia off at Kindergarten, none of the normal parking spots were available, so I parked curbside, set the handbrake, and hustled the kids into the building. After a few minutes Johanna and I came out to find that the car was no longer on the curb. No, no. It was across the street nosed up to a red car, which was sans bumper. Our car now sported a nicely dented side with inground red paint. Apparently in my haste I had failed to leave the car in gear and the brake must not have been pulled hard enough . . .

A couple of preteen boys were looking gleefully at the mess, although they informed me with regret that they had not seen the accident. "There was a real loud bang, though," offered one of them, who kindly lent me his cell phone to call the police. Of course a fender-bender with no one injured (thank God for that!) is low on the police priority list, so I got to stand around for half an hour with the restive crowd of boys, trying to keep Johanna on the sidewalk and subject to curious glances from passers-by, including all the Kindergarteners as they headed out for a field trip (fortunately Lilia was looking the other way . . . )

The police finally arrived to do their thing. Fortunately, I had my passport with me yesterday since I'd forgotten to take it out of my bag . . . it's a law in Germany that one must carry identification, but I usually don't lug my passport around, for obvious reasons. After asking for my ID first thing, the officers took pictures and issued me a 25 Euro ticket for failing to properly secure my automobile, and they left a note on the other car.

I came home nicely shaken up and cursing my own stupidity. I got to call the insurance company. "Pretty clear that you're at fault," the agent informed me cheerfully. "That makes the paperwork easier, though."

The owner of the red car soon called me. I apologized as best I could. "My car just came out of the shop," she told me, dispiritedly. "And it's my son's birthday today; I was hoping to be able to get ready for that." I apologized again . . .

. . . then I got to call Thorsten, who is in Vienna for a conference, to share the happy news. He took it admirably, listening in dismayed silence to my description of the accident and the damage, before observing philosophically that "nobody was hurt, and I guess this is what we have insurance for."

I have yet to get a damage estimate for our car (I've already forgotten the German word for "damage estimate"), and I am hoping that this blemish on my driving record won't send our insurance premiums up too much.

And now I have to go pick up Lilia and run some errands using the car. I will try to be a better driver today, and most of all, I will try to make haste slowly. I would be just as happy if the German word for "damage estimate" can stay out of my vocabulary after this . . .