Last night I was traumatised, possibly for life.

We were leaving the casino at around 5:30pm when a lovely old Russian man, who should not have a driving license in the first place, decided that he would completely ignore the give way sign and go about his business. Whether he was choosing to rebel or whether he just straight out didn’t see the sign, I couldn’t tell you, but either way his ingenius idea to ignore the road rules saw the side of his car and the front of our car meeting in a cosy little collision.

Luckily for us though we were in an underground carpark, so instead of doing 100km we would have only been going around 10km. Mind you, that 10km was still fast enough to spill Boyfriend’s nachos and sweet chilli sauce all over my perfectly clean jumpsuit and it was still fast enough to give my poor little neck a good taste of whiplash.

Now, for my first ever car crash I’d like to think that I held myself together fairly well and considering the speed in which we were going, it was really more of a nudge than a crash. So for the sake of embarrassing myself, it was probably lucky that I put on a brave face.

Inside though, that little nudge was more than enough to make me fear for my life. Inside I was crying like a baby and that sweet chilli sauce that had spilt all over the top of my leg, even though I knew it was just sauce, every time I looked down and it caught my eye, I could have sworn that I was bleeding. Considering my leg felt completely fine though I decided that I was probably being a little melodramatic and went back to pretending I wasn’t traumatised.

Now if my night were to have ended there, then maybe I would have been able to cope a little bit better, but as you can probably guess, it didn’t.

Just in case that wasn’t enough action for the evening, I then had to go and sit through a seventeen innings baseball game, before travelling back home to Brisbane. You could say that my poor little whiplashed body was very, very happy to hit the mattress that night.

Before I went to sleep though, not only did I thank my angels for sending us home safely and in one piece, but I prayed to never again be in another accident. Then I prayed again, only this time I prayed to never again meet a lovely Russian man with no idea how to drive.

 

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