Why I drive with duct tape

I've had an interesting car or two in my time. White Lily, for instance. Unfortunately, I've also sealed my reputation as a driver with a couple of accidents. But my latest (and longest lasting-- at least in my hands) car, Lady Jane Grey, has managed to steer clear of most of my driving issues. Until now.

This past winter, we had an ice storm or two. We only had one official snow day, but we also had one two-hour delay. I drove to work about an hour later than normal-- right before the de-icing trucks got to the road. I ended up in the ditch; the road was simply to slick for my car to stay on course around the elbow-sharp turn. My car was fine, except that it looked like it was missing a tooth or two in the front. My bumper was messed up.

I put off fixing my bumper into the indeterminate future. One, because my parents already had a vehicle in the shop. Two, because I had no earthly idea where to go. (Okay-- I still don't. But I'm goin' somewhere.)

Flash forward a few months.

I'm tired, it's early in the morning, and I'm returning from NYC, going to work. My contacts are in, but I'm not focused. And too late, I see what looks like a deer in the road, already dead. I brace myself, run over it, and listen for anything funny. When I don't hear anything, I relax and keep on driving.

A few days later, on the exact same road, I encounter the exact same scenario, only it's at night, it's a dead dog, and I am paying attention--only there's a car in the oncoming lane. I once again brace myself-- and immediately feel the SCRRRRRRRGH of a flat tire. Not that I would know. I've never had a flat tire before.

Pulling onto the side of the road, I immediately call my dad. He's the one with the technical know-how-- in fact, so much that I've never felt the need to learn how to change a flat tire. I know that's ridiculous-- twenty-seven year old single gal who doesn't know how to change a tire?! Yup. That's me.

Only, when I climb out of my car to see the damage-- or rather, feel the damage, since it was at night--my tire bounces back against the toe of my shoe. There doesn't seem to be any problem with my tire. Or any of the other tires. I look a little closer, and happen to notice that my bumper is no longer just hanging onto my car. It's now dragging the ground.

Thankfully, the closest WalMart was within slow-driving distance. Where I bought duct tape. Where I sat in the parking lot, laughing my head off while I carefully applied duct tape to my bumper.

And this, my friend, is why I drive with duct tape.