Coverup needed! Tips required!
I'm not talking about makeup either . . . ah, if only it were a pimple the size of Mt Baker (like my roommate always wails about). Nooo, me and my brother have finally hit the stage where we have fucked something up that will undoubtedly require some real ingenuity and a shared story to keep the parents off our backs. Ah, finally the kid is old enough that we have graduated to being partners in crime instead of snitching on eachother.
Whenever I am around and I remember, I try to get my brother to drive around empty parking lots and so on (which has only ammounted to like ten times in the past two years). Sure, he's got a year and a half before he can legally get a learner's licence, but I remember trying to learn to drive with my dad at 16 and it was HELL. He is NOT a low stress person to learn from, regardless of the fact that he is a good driver. Dad makes a lousy passenger for ANYONE, let alone a newbie driver. So I figured that I would jump start my brother on the whole driving thing. Besides, bunny hopping is really amusing if it isn't me doing the lousy driving. Well, this has all gone relatively well, and this week the parents are away, and I am in charge. I got my brother to drive on the road just near our house in the automatic, and decided that he did alright, so I figured I would have him drive away from the house this morning. So, we decide exactly which way we are going, and where we will switch over. He pulls backwards out of the drive just fine, then fiddles with the gear change stick thingie (what is it in an automatic anyways?). I figured he had put it into drive. Sadly no . . . so when he gives her a little to much gas, we back into a tree with a nice thunk.
Ah well. I was like, hmm, how about we go back into the driveway then, shall we? I was actually pretty matter of fact, and not pissy or accusative at all, but my brother was already telling me that we were dead, and it was mostly my fault. We get out of the van and take a look at it . . . sure enough, the plastic whatever bumper is totally pushed in at the one corner, and there is a small dent on the metal an inch away from the back door. My brother didn't freak out, but he is clearly apprehensive.
I still find the situation overly amusing, considering the expected parental reaction. The only time I ever hit anything was in parking lots, and the scratch I put on a vehicle was when someone else backed out into me, and my dad was in the passenger seat. I guess I figure that if I have to say it was me, after six years of pretty blameless driving, my dad won't totally wring my neck. I'm sure he'll spaz a bit, and since obviously I have no phone number from someone else, I'm going to get the razz for backing into something that doesn't move. Well, alternately I could swear someone backed into me in the parking lot and didn't leave their number . . . or I could say that I was going to let the brother drive to the mailbox . . . but ratting out on my brother will do bad things to his poor fragile driving confidence, which is what I was trying to promote in the first place. And I will be in shit anyways for letting the little twit drive. The hit-and-run thing has some promise though . . . So, people, give me advice! What should I do?
The one thing that I am sure to try is to ask a mechanic friend what I can be done. If he says he knows how to fix it, I'm gonna try to bribe him with food or beer or something. If that fails, I will have to pay him, or ask him to recommed someone (seeing as I don't think I want to go to my dad's mechanics unless I have decided that a partial coverup won't work). I know that even the small dent in the metal will eventually be noticed, and the bend mark in the plastic will be aparent even if it does go back to its usual shape. My brother is already giving me the lecture on how with dad, it is best to own up early. I am thinking he wants ME to own up to it though. Well, it was my idea . . . So, what do you think is my best bet?
P.S. My lying skills are not stellar but they are workable . . . I know I will look embarassed when I bring it up, but I will just have to admit to something. If I say it was hit and run, I can sorta admit to a bad parking job, if pressed.
Whenever I am around and I remember, I try to get my brother to drive around empty parking lots and so on (which has only ammounted to like ten times in the past two years). Sure, he's got a year and a half before he can legally get a learner's licence, but I remember trying to learn to drive with my dad at 16 and it was HELL. He is NOT a low stress person to learn from, regardless of the fact that he is a good driver. Dad makes a lousy passenger for ANYONE, let alone a newbie driver. So I figured that I would jump start my brother on the whole driving thing. Besides, bunny hopping is really amusing if it isn't me doing the lousy driving. Well, this has all gone relatively well, and this week the parents are away, and I am in charge. I got my brother to drive on the road just near our house in the automatic, and decided that he did alright, so I figured I would have him drive away from the house this morning. So, we decide exactly which way we are going, and where we will switch over. He pulls backwards out of the drive just fine, then fiddles with the gear change stick thingie (what is it in an automatic anyways?). I figured he had put it into drive. Sadly no . . . so when he gives her a little to much gas, we back into a tree with a nice thunk.
Ah well. I was like, hmm, how about we go back into the driveway then, shall we? I was actually pretty matter of fact, and not pissy or accusative at all, but my brother was already telling me that we were dead, and it was mostly my fault. We get out of the van and take a look at it . . . sure enough, the plastic whatever bumper is totally pushed in at the one corner, and there is a small dent on the metal an inch away from the back door. My brother didn't freak out, but he is clearly apprehensive.
I still find the situation overly amusing, considering the expected parental reaction. The only time I ever hit anything was in parking lots, and the scratch I put on a vehicle was when someone else backed out into me, and my dad was in the passenger seat. I guess I figure that if I have to say it was me, after six years of pretty blameless driving, my dad won't totally wring my neck. I'm sure he'll spaz a bit, and since obviously I have no phone number from someone else, I'm going to get the razz for backing into something that doesn't move. Well, alternately I could swear someone backed into me in the parking lot and didn't leave their number . . . or I could say that I was going to let the brother drive to the mailbox . . . but ratting out on my brother will do bad things to his poor fragile driving confidence, which is what I was trying to promote in the first place. And I will be in shit anyways for letting the little twit drive. The hit-and-run thing has some promise though . . . So, people, give me advice! What should I do?
The one thing that I am sure to try is to ask a mechanic friend what I can be done. If he says he knows how to fix it, I'm gonna try to bribe him with food or beer or something. If that fails, I will have to pay him, or ask him to recommed someone (seeing as I don't think I want to go to my dad's mechanics unless I have decided that a partial coverup won't work). I know that even the small dent in the metal will eventually be noticed, and the bend mark in the plastic will be aparent even if it does go back to its usual shape. My brother is already giving me the lecture on how with dad, it is best to own up early. I am thinking he wants ME to own up to it though. Well, it was my idea . . . So, what do you think is my best bet?
P.S. My lying skills are not stellar but they are workable . . . I know I will look embarassed when I bring it up, but I will just have to admit to something. If I say it was hit and run, I can sorta admit to a bad parking job, if pressed.
posted by Lu Hill at 10:38 p.m.
5 Comments:
If I were you I would do the following:
Get the bumper fixed, with money or bribes of beer, either way it must get fixed before the Dad gets back! Then tell the Dad when he gets home that it was me who backed out and accidentally got the gear in the wrong spot, yea it makes me look like an idiot, but I will be a god to my little bro, and that's more important. Give the Dad the invoice from the mechanic and tell him that I am sorry and feel really stupid, but the bumper is fixed (on my expense)... boy I sure am responsible eh Dad :)
The secret to a lie is to actually tell very carefully selected parts of the truth. For example, under this type of situation, you could say something like:
"(insert brother's name here) and I were going to (insert location here). I couldn't see the tree and we backed into it."
The way I see it; if omission is a lie, then nobody on earth has ever told the truth.
Ah, Dru, if only it were so simple . . . my dad should have been a prosecutor, he won't be happy until I have explained my story several times, hitting up all pertinent points. One of which will be "what were you thinking?" and the only thing I can admit to thinking would be "aw shit, I'm so dead. Dad is never going to let me live this down". My only consolation is that I can make sure my brother never lives this down.
P.S. the tree is growing out of a nearly vertical slope across from my house, which is VERY large and should have been very easy to avoid.
Do you still have that ugly, smelly, misbehaved dog? You could always kill (or at least severely injure) him, and then say that he somehow ended up in the road as you were baking out (or backing in as you came home). Then you can blame the stupidity of the dog. Sweet eh!! Two birds, one stone... now we just need to figure what to do with that second stone??
My dog, despite an obsessive urge to bark at all male strangers and a compulsion to roll in long-dead birds, is actually very cunning and adept at running exactly alongside our vehicles as we park them or drive them up the road. Often we have to leave the neighbourhood in fourth gear to make sure he isn't on the chase. It would take the sort of slalom stunt driving that I am not capable of to hit the dog, and my dad will know this. Besides, Mercury is a very nice dog, and you are not to belittle his looks or character! He looks just fine. His taste in perfume is the only thing I will allow you to denigrate.
Post a Comment
<< Home