How do car insurance companies figure out insurance premiums? What causes rates to be high or low? Accidents. But what causes the most car accidents? Cell phones? No. Well, partially. However, women putting on their makeup cause 10x as many accidents as men putting on their makeup. Okay, so I’m not sure about this, but I’m sure women’s makeup companies have majority stock ownership in several car insurance companies.
About four months ago, I found out why car insurance premiums keep going up. I was turning and a car rear-ended me (it wasn’t her fault, she was rear ended too—by what I suspect was a businessman with a cell phone surgically connected to his ear). Still, today, a pristine morning, I was not expecting to be rear ended again. Not so soon. I was still recovering from the rear-ending before. I know it sounds dirty, but it’s not nearly that fun!
Again, I was minding my own business. I was stopped behind a car turning at a stop sign. And wham! (No “bam, thank you ma’am”—don’t we all want to be thanked when we’re rear ended—because it’s the right/polite thing to do.) This time I knew the bumper I had just had painted was hit hard enough to do some damage (maybe not a great deal, but enough so I should at least get a goodnight kiss—meaning over $200). I pulled onto the side street and looked at my car—sure enough, there were the telltale scrapes and scratches from unsafe sex—err, I mean from being rear-ended. If only they made condoms for car bumpers (of course maybe bras work just as well—any bodily fluid barrier would make it safer). I was upset—but not nearly as rattled as when I was rear ended the first time—when it was a virgin and had a perfect rear-end. This time I knew my car didn’t deserve to be raped this way—in the rear end—because it had already been man handled four months ago.
This time the woman, who hit me, was at fault. I suspected the woman, who didn’t seem to slow down while rear ending me (maybe she was horny, or her car was), had been busy doing something else. Like her makeup. Or on the cell phone. Or conducting a full symphonic orchestra (it made as much sense as anything else that would distract you while driving a two-ton machine!). We exchanged info—and I kept wondering: Is my rear end ever going to be the same? Or will it be disfigured? Actually, I wondered if my insurance rates would go up. Two accidents in four months. I’d moved “two suburbs outside of Chicago” so my insurance premiums would go down (actually, now I knew, I really moved so I could have two accidents).
(This is a serialized story, please read tomorrow for the second installment of this article)
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