Friday the 13th: An accidental schlamiel
Originally from The Joy of Yiddish, iirc:
is a person who gets a job in a restaurant as a waiter and as he is carring a tray of soup bowls, he spills it on a customer. A schlamazel
is the customer upon whom the soup got spilled.
Today, Friday the 13th, I was in an accident. A minor one. I was pulling out of a parking lot, into the street. The street was busy and crowded. SUV in front of me was blocked and started to reverse. Apparently, the driver didn't see me, behind her but still at an angle. I saw her backing up and tried to back up to avoid her, but didn't move backwards quickly enough.
She hit me, going slowly. A small bump. Her right back wheel well/bumper popped out. Not dented, but separated from the car body. I backed up a few feet to clear the driveway for someone to get in, and surveyed the damage: My car was barely scratched. I may not need to dapple some Emerald Mica paint to make it look okay.
The fault was clearly hers, and she admitted it. I was willing to keep the insurance out of it, and she agreed. We exchanged names and license numbers, and she drove off.
I'm fine. Not even shaken. She was fine, though sadder. So I'll have to claim that on this Friday the 13th, we were lucky: A slip of the gas petal on either car could have caused more damage, but the actual accident wasn't even a fender bender. Still, I'm glad I spilled the soup and didn't have it spilled on me.