The collision course

The metal is mashed in.

THE HELLACIOUS Honda met its match yesterday in the form of a commercial truck in the nearby capital city. It received a hurtful blow to the back left side, damaging both the fender, if such a thing still exists, and the bumper, likewise.

The black steel thing you see below is something I added years ago after a little mishap of my own doing. I, ahem, backed into a light pole. But pretend that didn’t happen.

The truck driver pulled over, got out, stated that I was at fault. I wasn’t. He then got back into his truck and drove off. No surprise there. Most Mexicans do not own insurance, and it’s not required like in the United States. It is stupid not to have it, however.

The important thing to remember in these circumstances is NOT to call the cops. The exception might be if there were injuries. Even then, I would call an ambulance first and then the adjuster. See what he says.

I phoned my insurance company, and an adjuster arrived posthaste. I had noted the license plate of the truck, but he was not interested, which was no surprise. He took my info, and gave me a piece of paper with instructions to go to an authorized repair shop within two weeks. I would owe a deductible of about 5,000 pesos ($270 U.S.).

We drove back to the mountaintop and headed to our mechanic’s garage. She recommended a body shop here that does “very good work but is a little expensive.”

We drove straight over there.

They’ll do the repairs, plus a little ding on the far side from a couple of years ago, for the grand sum of 3,000 pesos ($160 U.S.). The insurance company’s repair shop is in the state capital, 50 kilometers away, plus God knows how long they’d kidnap the car.

The body shop here says I can drop it off early tomorrow, and it will be ready Saturday. I’m pretty sure this work would cost thousands in the United States because it would not be repaired. It would all be replaced, especially at a dealership.

It’s great to live in Mexico where common sense and abundant talent exists.

The plastic “fender” is buckled.
Separation anxiety.