OK, so usually when you put your car in reverse, it goes in reverse.
But sometimes you THINK it's in reverse and it's not.
Uh oh.
TG I was in a parking lot and no one was walking near me. My car drove forward into a parked car. Dented my car, dented their car, pushed their car into another car, scratched car #3.
Sounds like fun, right?
Try it in Hebrew.
I was at the local pool, which is actually a sports complex where people take yoga, exercise, etc. classes. A class was ending and a lady walked out - my luck it was her car that I'd hit (car #2 - mine being car #1). I asked if it was her car, she said it was and I apologized profusely.
She said "What happened?"
Uh oh. How do I say this in Hebrew????
So, in my usual sophisticated toddler-level Hebrew I explained that I wanted the car to go in reverse but instead it went forward and plowed into her car. What I probably said was something like this, because she gave me a strange look:
"I want go back but go front. I hit your car. I sorry."
She seemed to get it and asked if I was ok. Whew, nice person. Then a couple of guys from the sports center came out. They also asked if I was ok and proceeded to tell me what I had done - "You see, you THOUGHT you were in reverse but you weren't." There may be a reason that they work in a sports center and not in army intelligence. Well, from that I at least found out the correct words to use.
Then (cue ominous music) owner of car #3 came out. Let's call her "Brunhilde." I believe her look could actually kill, and I don't believe she had a neck.
Her car had a tiny scratch. The sport center guys were amused at how angry she was. I was terrified. Lady #2, whose car was really dented, waited patiently while Brunhilde photographed all of my documents, me, the car, my next of kin, and everyone else's next of kin.
Sports center guy #1 put his arm around me and advised me to say the bracha of gomel for surviving the accident (I love this country, as you might imagine he was not religious, but that was his advice). Sport center guy #2 became philosophical, "Hey, it's only a car, you are OK, that is all that matters!"
Brunhilde continued to deliver the death glare.
OK, drama over, now I had to deal with the insurance company. I call my English-speaking agent, who tells me that the women who deals with accidents speaks ONLY HEBREW. Great. We talk, we email, all in Hebrew, mind you, yay me.
The next day she writes to me to tell me that the appraiser will be at the garage "in the morning" and I should meet him there.
OK, everyone, what is your first question. "What does 'in the morning' mean?" I call her but of course she is already gone for the day (Israelis tend to be gone for the day after 2:00 pm). So I call the garage! Hahahahahahaha!! I ask the guy who answers, "When does the appraiser get in?" He says "In the morning."
I say, "What does that mean? 7? 8?" He says "Something like that."
Well, now I"m not nervous at all, knowing that I might get there and either have to wait 3 hours or miss him.
Next morning I compromise and get there at 7:30. He is not there. Here is how that goes:
"When does he get in," I ask.
"Why," asks the woman behind the counter.
"Because I have to meet with him."
"Why?"
"To look at my car."
"Why?"
At this point I'm pretty sure I'm on Candid Camera and Allen Funt is about to walk out from behind a curtain.
"Because your garage is going to fix it."
"You don't need to be here for that."
"But the insurance lady said to meet him."
"No, not you just your car. Here, fill out these forms and you can leave."
So I"m hoping that my car and the appraiser had a nice cup of tea and talked about how to make the repairs.
As for me, I went home, having no idea whether or not my car is actually going to get fixed. I was just so relieved to have it in a garage where it was SUPPOSED to get fixed and not have to figure out how to say things in Hebrew anymore, that I practically wept.
Two days later I was on a plane to America for two weeks. My car is supposed to be fixed and ready for me when I return.
Please pray for my little green Suzuki. It's all alone at the garage and speaks only English.
you know you should update everyone on the status of LGS. Spoiler alert - he's totally fine. baruch hashem.
ReplyDeleteI say, "What does that mean? 7? 8?" He says "Something like that."
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