I was visiting my sister during my Spring Break in March. At the time, she lived in Los Angeles and was going to school at USC. Since my sister didn’t have a car, I rented one at the airport, and we drove all over LA in a new forest green Dodge Neon. The La Brea Tar Pits; NBC Studios; Disneyland; we were going some place new every day.
We were on our way to Universal Studios when it happened. USC is close to some neighborhoods that are a little dicey. We were sitting at a stop light and all of sudden felt a jolt. Someone had rear-ended us!
I was so mad. Couldn’t he see the red light? Didn’t he see that we were completely stopped? What was wrong with that idiot? I was swearing like a truck driver.
However, I was also scared. What if we were getting carjacked? I didn’t want to get out of the car, either.
I didn’t have much time to think about it, fortunately. Just a couple of minutes after we were hit, a motorcycle cop pulled up next to us. He told me he had seen the whole thing, and then he went to talk to the driver of the car that hit us. Not long afterward, a tow truck came to take the other car away. The driver had a suspended license and was driving illegally. Our rental car was dinged up a little, but not badly.
The police officer handed me a police report, and then we were on our way, for another sunny LA day.
The next time I visited my sister, I rented a white Chevy Malibu. We drove up the coast to San Francisco. Somewhere in wine country, we were stopped in a long line of traffic. Suddenly we felt a jolt…someone had rear ended us AGAIN!
This time, however, there was no need to call the cops. An older man stepped out of the car, apologized profusely, and there was no damage done. But I couldn’t believe I had been rear ended again!
This summer, Ed and I are planning a family trip to California, and we’re renting a car…