Karma is a bitch

Last night as I walked out to my car to meet up with my cousin for some drinks, I passed a woman in my parking lot.  She was on the phone, looked flustered, and every time she tried to start her car it made a clicking sound.  Luckily growing up with my father always wrenching under the hood, I have become fairly knowledgeable at sounds a car makes.  This being the most basic and tell tell sign of a dead battery.

Chances are she left her lights on and the battery got drained.  I could hear her on the phone asking whomever it was on the other line, how to open the hood.  Once the hood was up she stared into the engine as though a teacher presented a Communications class with a hand out on molecular Physics.

As I continued to my car I knew that I had jumper cables in the back and could easily help her out in less than a minute.  I contemplated indecisively wondering if I should help her.  My solution was no.  There was a lot of stuff in the trunk that I would have to move in order to get to the wheel well and retrieve the jumper cables.  I also told my cousin I would pick him up in less than a minute.  I then convinced that the guy riding his beach cruiser next to her car could some how help her.

What was he going to do?  Even if he did have jumper cables was he going to clip them onto his bike and pedal as fast as he could?  As I cruised out of the parking lot, I looked the other direction, and made my way down to meet my cousin.  Not once did I think of this incident again throughout the night.

Flash forward to 7:15 this morning.  I tiredly shut my alarm off and head to the bathroom.  Brushed my teeth, emptied the tank (TMI?) and got dressed.  Got a quick drink of water and walked out to my car.  Got in the car turned on my favorite talk radio host and embarked on my journey to work.

At the end of my street I needed to make a left onto Sunset Blvd.  For those of you who do not know Sunset, it is a bitch anytime you are near a freeway.  Especially at 7:30 in the morning.  As usual all the cars stopped at the red light up the street and they left the “keep clear” space for me to pull out and make my left turn into the suicide lane.  I scan left there is nothing; scan right cars going in the opposite direction of where I want to go.  Ok suicide lane it is.  As I initiate my turn BAM.  Instantly “Ohh shit” runs through my head.  I stop in the suicide lane, look in my rear view mirror and see what collided with me.

I pull over and see that it is a VW Passat wagon.  My front right bumper hit the passenger rear door.  We exchange information and go about our days.  I miss work and go through the hassle of calling and making the claims and talking with the insurance reporters.  Later on today I find out that it is my fault due to the rule of the right of way.  If the lady had been driving in the suicide lane for fifty more feet, well it would have been her fault.

I think back to that clueless lady in the parking lot who probably bought her Acura TL not for the speed or horsepower, but the color, and the pretty “wing” on the back, she bought it because it looked cute.  I did not help her, if I did it would have taken maybe two minutes.

I guess what I am trying to get at, is if an opportunity to do a good deed or help someone out presents itself, don’t go looking the other way.  Be that nice person and help out.  You never know when Karma is going to bite you in the ass.  Ohh yeah and don’t drive in a suicide lane for more than 200 feet.  Only 50 feet further and I would not be at fault.

Karma-1 Kaliphornya-0……….


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