I was leaving work to go to the gym today, and was stopped at the exit from the parking lot behind a beat up old Blazer. Suddenly, the guy in the Blazer threw it into reverse and started backing up and rammed into me, busting my headlight and putting a big scuff and a hole in my bumper.
He was a nice enough guy; he immediately admitted fault. He said he understood when I said I had to file a police report. We chatted while we waited 40 minutes for the cops.
Why am I writing about this? Certainly not because a little fender-bender is particularly interesting. And not because I want you to feel sorry for me for being in an accident. No, I’m writing because of what happened as we were standing there, waiting for the police, chit-chatting.
“This must have happened for a reason!” he drawled. “I met you today for a REASON!” At first I thought he was trying to pick me up. Which was kinda gross, because he was twice my age (not necessarily a bad thing) and, um, pretty nasty (and since I don’t mean “nasty” in a good way, that IS a bad thing). But he followed that up with, “I’m a Christian. I go to such-and-such evangelical church. And I believe everything happens for a reason. So we must have met today for a reason!”
I’m not a Christian, but I believe everything happens for a reason, too. I’m pretty sure the reason our destinies (and our automobiles) collided today was that you’re an inattentive dumbass.