So I rear ended a guy the other day.
In reality it was his fault, because he stopped ridiculously short. But we all know how the insurance companies see it. If you’re the rear ending party, you’re automatically at fault and now you have to deal with the repercussions of some prick practically setting you up.
These are the thoughts that should have been going through my head at the time of the accident.
LadyDerpsALot that I am…of course they weren’t.
Instead of thinking “Frickety frick!” when he got out of his car, I found myself thinking
“Hey, he’s pretty cute…”
I know, I know.
“Like, really? That’s what you’re thinking about, Lady?!”
I’m ashamed. Really, I am.
I’m not usually this shallow. Honest. I realize that I should have been freaking out or doing something else similarly productive, but instead I was busy admiring how clean cut he was. How for some reason I didn’t expect him to be young. Those are the turns my mind chose to take in such a high stress situation.
I’m pretty amused, really. It was so uncharacteristic of me. I’m not going to straight-up lie and say my eye isn’t caught by good looks, but I’m usually so oblivious to the people around me that I don’t really notice. A handsome guy will only catch my attention for a few seconds at most. Sure, I’ll drink my fill for a few seconds, but that’s pretty much it. It’s inner quality that I’m truly a sucker for, which I guess is why I don’t usually pay attention to looks.
But for some reason, this guy’s beauty did not escape me.
Instead of chocking up strategies, I was purring out melodies.
I choose to blame it on the high stress situation. (;p) Something with my adrenaline must have turned we wonky.
If I ever get called in by a boss to be let go, or you know, stabbed to death by a guy on a psychotic break, I guess we know how I’ll react then. If it’s anything like this high stress scenario,
I’ll probably be thinking about how chiseled his chin is or something.