Short Term Car Insurance and My Texting Cousin

Lydia, my seventeen-year-old cousin with a cell phone surgically attached to her hand, needed some driving guidance, or so her mother thought. With a spotless driving record, I seemed like the obvious candidate. She bribed me with the promise of a couple of free meals from her gourmet restaurant and the purchase of short term car insurance for my older model Buick. I figured what did I have to lose, other than my life?

As Lydia and I buckled up and got situated, I informed her that she must lay aside her extra appendage in order to effectively operate a motor vehicle. With only an eye-roll in response, she put the cell phone on the console and cranked the car.

She seemed to be doing all the right things: looking both ways before backing out of the driveway, signaling for turns and running only yellow lights. Just as I began to question her mother’s assessment of her as a poor driver, she received a text message. She picked up her phone and began typing fervently.

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“What do you think you are doing? Put that down! I thought we had an agreement!”

“But Justin might be asking me to the prom, and Cheryl knows whether or not he’s asked Amy yet, and if he has, she has a plan to break them up, and I have to know whether or not I need to go prom-dress shopping tonight or wait until later to see if the plan worked!”

“It can wait! Don’t you want to live to see the prom?”

“Like, this is totally crucial to my life!”

I mumbled to myself, “I’m glad your mother got me that short term car insurance,” before stating loudly, “Put it away now. You have yet to see me really angry, and it is NOT something you EVER want to have the luck to live through!”

Only mildly surprised by this statement, Lydia continued to insist, “I’m sorry, but I would rather die and kill you, too, than suffer the pain of going to prom without Justin. If he doesn’t ask me, I DO NOT WANT TO LIVE! DO YOU HEAR ME?” Without hesitation, she resumed typing.

We continued to scream our cases, each trying to top the other’s conviction. As she multi-tasked, typing while arguing and driving, the third proved too much for her, and we swerved off the road into a parked Dodge. “What an ironic brand for us to hit!” I thought to myself.

Though mine failed to activate, Lydia’s airbag flared up, knocking her cell phone clear through the back windshield. The front of my car was badly damaged. I immediately called Lydia’s mother to make sure she had purchased the comprehensive short term car insurance plan, and she reassured me that she had. Thanks to short term car insurance, the Dodge owner and I recovered our losses, but Lydia’s phone was completely destroyed. Oh well, she’ll live, whether she wants to or not.

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