A first

Cuba, don’t get offended, but I’m procrastinating you. Take it as a compliment. You blew my mind and therefore, I digress, preferring more fluffy topics:
Firsts.
“There is a first time for everything,” or so the saying goes. I hoped to never have this first, but today I got in my first car accident. Mind you, not only have I never been in an accident, I’ve never gotten a ticket of any kind [once I was pulled over for speeding (I hate you Ohio Turnpike!), but a crazy psycho, one that I kinda love and am thankful for, almost hit the policeman as he was standing outside my car. The policeman thought it was more important to go after the almost-cop-killer than to give me a ticket].
Mexico, it turns out, is not a great place to have an accident, but our car has had 2 in the past 6 days; both with buses. Oh how I love buses! The first one was when our friend picked us up from the airport last week. Hit and run. The best part is that it was right in front of a cop, who did nothing. Today I was on the way back from a magical kiddy-wonderland named Kidzania, complete with a fortune teller, beauty salon, fashion show, painting, shoe shines, dog petting, pizza and candy making, and what every mother wants for her kids, a tattoo shop.
Once again, I digress. So, we are heading back with our kiddie-high. I go to stop at a light and a mammoth bus with daggers coming out of the hubcaps (picture Ben Hur here), a flame thrower, and missiles and other bad things side-swipes me; this is the story the cop got. The dude runs the red and stops for minute to assess his damage. Meanwhile, I am honking non-stop and yelling out the window at the top of my lungs, so much that my friend pacifies me. The dude gets back in the bus to drive away, but superwoman speeds in front of him so he can’t get away, of course waiting for the light to turn green first. Then, an incompetent American appears from nowhere and tries to give that evil driver a piece of her mind in broken Spanish—not too threatening.
Sorry, but one more caveat here. My second day in Mexico I go to a brunch with several other ex-pats. I leave that lunch with a deadly fear of Mexican police. So, I know I can’t call the police, I do the next best thing and call David. Apparently insurance companies are the first line of defense. We call them, but the driver claims it was my fault. Screaming and cursing. The police are called. They tell us that if we want to contest, we will have to spend most of the night and tomorrow in some government building and additionally will have to pay for the impoundment of our car and a doctor visit. That sounded dull, but what came next was like a dream come true, or at least my interpretation of what came next. I thought they told us that special dogs were going to sniff our cars to help the judge conclude who was really at fault. Oh man, my brain was racing: Mexican police dogs must have 2 brains or 2 noses or magnifying glasses or smoke a pipe like Sherlock Holmes! I got really excited and I knew with every fiber of my being that anything would be worth it as long as I could see this process. Alas, I misinterpreted and even specifically asked the policewoman if dogs would be involved. Upon the response, we decided to go home. Also, the bus driver was driving with neither a license nor a license plate. Poor man is at this moment in jail, with a huge fine to pay, or at least that's what the cops told us would happen.

Unfortunately I wasn't able to get a picture of the other side of the car. That's where you can see the fire, grenade, shotgun, and arrow damage better.