Beware things that go boom in the night |

Beware things that go boom in the night

Heidi Rice
Post Independent
Glenwood Springs, CO Colorado
Fried Rice


It was 5:15 on a Thursday morning and Husband-Head and I were just beginning to stir when we heard the loud bang.

“Did you just fart?” I asked Husband-Head, still half asleep. “Because if so, that was the loudest toot I’ve ever heard in my entire life.”

“CRAP! I think someone just hit my car!” Husband-Head cried as he immediately jumped up of bed completely naked and threw open the curtains to look at his car, which had been parked in front of our house.

Only his car wasn’t parked in front of the house anymore. It was parked on the lawn. Sideways. With the front end of a silver Saab connected to its right rear end.

We won’t repeat the expletives that followed. …

Let’s just say, you’ve never seen two people looking for underwear or pants so fast in your life. The closest thing I could find to cover my rear end was a pair of boxer shorts, which I threw on before bolting downstairs.

In total panic mode – afraid that the driver was going to try and get away – we rushed around the house, Husband-Head STILL trying to find a pair of pants and me grabbing a notebook and a pen to write down the driver’s license plate number. Fortunately, one of our neighbors had been outside and was already on the phone to the police while the driver – a 30-something woman – just sat in the driver’s seat, apologizing.

“I’m so sorry,” she kept repeating. “I’m really, really sorry.”

Yeah, and so are we at the fact that you just totaled our car, I thought to myself.

What freaked me out was that there was no license plate sitting in the usual spot where license plates usually live – somewhere on the bumper between the left and right blinkers.

No, this license plate was sitting on the back rear window because this car had just been purchased in the last month and the owner hadn’t even had time to get a permanent plate.

Bummer for the buyer.

After making sure the woman was alright, I jotted down the numbers and took some pictures of the damage to both cars. It was all kind of surreal because one just doesn’t expect someone to nail their car when it’s innocently parked in front of their house at an ungodly hour in the morning.

Nevermind, at one point I noticed that I had put the boxer shorts on backwards and my butt was hanging out of the little hole that is usually in front. …

Then the cop showed up.

Apparently, Miss Crash said she had spilled coffee on herself and lost control of her vehicle. However, Husband-Head said when he looked in the car, there was no evidence of any coffee whatsoever, which surely would have spilled after plowing into a parked car. Her vehicle was towed a little while later and ours was left for several hours before someone came to take it away.

“Whoa, dude,” a neighbor said, checking out the scene. “Did you guys have, like, too much to drink last night, or what?”

Yes, and then we ran into our own car … dumbass.

The next few weeks were a complete nightmare. For some reason, our insurance company was not concerned at all about the fact that our car had just been demolished. While they have always been very attentive to our premium payments, this just did not seem to be up there with something they were very interested in.

“We need to talk to her insurance company,” our supposed agent said.

Days went by and we heard no word, so I called both our insurance agent and hers. Again. And again. And again.

“Ummm … we haven’t heard anything back from her insurance company,” our insurance agent explained. “They aren’t answering the phone and they need to investigate whose fault it was.” THEY AREN’T ANSWERING THE PHONE?

“Let me get this straight, lady,” I said, fighting back tears. “So, if they don’t ANSWER THE PHONE, then they don’t have to pay for the damages? The fault doesn’t GET any more cut and dried than people sleeping in bed when someone creams their parked car!”

In the end, it turns out the woman had no insurance, and we ended up having to buy another vehicle.

Needless to say, we dropped this insurance agency like a hot potato.

But while Husband-Head took our second car to work, it meant I didn’t have a car to drive.

Walking, walking walking …

“Screw the NutriSystem diet,” I told one of my girlfriends. “I’ve lost 10 pounds just from walking around town. The best way to lose weight is to have someone smash up your car.”

We finally bought ourselves a truck and were just getting ready to sleep when there was another large Ka-BOOM!

“Now THAT was a fart,” Husband-Head said with a satisfied smile as he pulled up his covers.

Heidi Rice’s column appears in the Citizen Telegram on Thursdays and in the Post Independent on Fridays. If you have a funny story or column idea, please share by e-mailing Heidi at To see more columns or to buy her book collection of columns, visit

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