My baby car got munched.
Here's the story.
I was at the front of a line of cars at an intersection on East Hollis (Rte.111) in Nashua. I had a fighting chance of slogging through bumper to bumper traffic all the way to the bridge that goes into Hudson, and then all the way over to Curves in Windham to get a workout in when
A big something (van? pickup? Boeing 747? still up for debate) slammed into my baby car. Pushed me a few feet into the intersection.
It gets better.
The old fart who hit me got out of his mega-truckalaurus, came up to my window and told me to pull off the road so traffic could get through.
I was already on the phone dialing 911 AND I AM AN IDIOT, so I did what he said.
Then he got back in his TrucKasaurus Wrecks and drove off - which I didn't realize until I got out of my car to see - nobody.
I know what he looks like, but can't describe the piece of mountain he was driving. And no one called 911 for me either.
So, the trunk won't shut, the bumper is TOAST, but was able to drive the car over to my brother-in-law Keith (species Mechanicus Optimus), who gave me an initial damage estimate of $1200 to $1500.
Pictures coming - I am not standing out in the cold to do them tonight. Plus, all the aches and pains are settling in from being rammed from behind (stop that - I KNOW what it sounds like, and I am leaving it).
My back hurts, but my pride is killing me.