stephen king knew what he was talking about

bad news: i got in an accident this morning
good news: the guy i rear-ended (whose SUV my tin can of a Prius ended up UNDER) loved me so much by the end of the ordeal that he offered me cigs and hugs and kisses goodbye. (this after i sweet-talked him that his back was JUST FINE and no he wasn't injured and no i wouldn't settle and YES i was calling the police.)

and much as i insisted the accident wasn't my fault, no one believed me until
hundreds of complaints about the car having an engine and brakes with a life of their own, earning it the nickname `christine'