1995
Event: Collision at I-77 overpass in Cornelius, NC
Fault: Other driver
Replacement vehicle: Teal Dodge Neon. Shudder.
Cost to me: $0

A polite, working-class Southern gentleman in a white pickup tried to scoot through the left-turn arrow while it's still yellow, and clipped the front of my car. Officer Hogg, who reported to the scene, wore a tasteful gold tietack in the shape of a pig. He seemed mildly befuddled by my Maryland license plates and North Carolina residency, but lucky for me, I lived in a college town, and he didn't pry any further. Coincidentally, this was the third car accident in my family in six months.

Spring 1996
Event: Collision in my driveway, Davidson, NC
Fault: Mine
Cost to me: $0, because I never got it fixed

Our landlord didn't care about the interior of our house -- weak and expensive baseboard heating, peeling linoleum, and once, roofing materials tumbling down the chimney and out of the fireplace into Frank's bedroom -- but his wife kept the yard looking mighty fine. No one would drive over that green grass if he had any say. So he put wooden posts around our gravel driveway. I always parked in the right hand spot and took a sharp left out of the driveway; one time I parked in the left spot and drove straight into the post, giving myself a big ol' dent in the driver's door.

November 1996
Event: Collision at Quince Orchard Road and Clopper Road, Gaithersburg, MD
Fault: Other driver
Replacement car: White Suzuki Sidekick
Cost to me: $0

I moved back in with my parents while I attended a summer program at George Washington University. By October, I had a full-time permanent job and and had been dating Tom for a few weeks. I was driving with him one night, waiting at a red light. I looked to the left and for a paralyzed moment saw a car making a wide right turn, heading straight for me. At the last minute the car pulled right and hit the rear door. The driver stumbled out of his car, blind drunk. "So, were you watching the game?" he slurred as we waited for the police. "Shut the hell up," I replied. The lawyer in the car in front of me gave me his card. I showed up for the man's first court appearance but never heard anything after that.

On my birthday, a few days after I broke up with Tom, I found small presents from him on the driver's seat of the Sidekick, which I'd left unlocked in my parents' driveway. Lip balm, and a chocolate bar.

October 2000
Event: Theft from Monroe Street at Brown Street, NW, Washington, DC
Fault: Unsolved
Replacement vehicle: None
Cost to me: $500

It was a gorgeous warm fall day, my employer's annual baseball outing. E and I walked from his place in the late morning, thinking we'd visit the Visionary Art Museum in Baltimore before heading to Camden Yards for the game. As we came around the corner, I stopped short, staring quizzically at the spot where my car should have been. After I filed the police report, we raced to Union Station in a cab, to take Amtrak to Baltimore, but the price -- $20 each way! -- was prohibitive. Instead, we sat in the circle bar in the center of the Great Hall.

Two months later, I was ready to sign the car over to my insurance company for cash. I got the papers notarized in the morning, so I could take them to the Post Office at lunch. At 11 a.m., the police called and told me my car had been found.

2002
Event: Hit and run on 20th Street NW, Washington, DC
Fault: Unsolved
Replacement vehicle: None
Cost to me: $100

One weekday morning, E found the bumper torn off my car and a note from a witness under the windshield wiper. He threw the bumper in the back seat, moved the car to a legal spot, and called the cops, giving them the license plate of the van that had been seen hitting my car. Two months later I got a letter from the police, asking for a written statement so they could pursue the case. Luckily, I had lowered my deductible after the theft.

December 2002
Event: Vandalism
Fault: Unsolved
Replacement vehicle: None
Cost to me: $100

After the trip to Ikea we didn't care to park a mile from home, so we left the car at the corner and planned to move it in the morning. Of course, we didn't get around to it until late afternoon, although we did check for parking tickets as we walked by on various errands. It wasn't until I was unlocking the driver's door that I saw the safety glass in the backseat. I'll never know what the vandal was after when he broke the passenger-side vent window, unlocked the door, let himself in, and rummaged around. Was it the 2000 road atlas, hair scrunchie, forks, almost empty jug of antifreeze, or razor blades? The fleece gloves, ice scraper, beach mat, 3 pairs of Goodwill-bound black leather boots, a windshield-wiper blade? None of those things, free for the taking, was good enough for this outlaw.