In case the heated seats make me lose my memory...

Once upon a time, a family went to have dinner at their friends' house and then to study and to pray.  As they were finishing dinner... CRASH!  It was a very loud, hollow, horrible sound.  The husband, whom we'll call Rory, very calmly said, "That was our car."  And sure enough, upon drawing the curtain back, there was the family's car.  Smashed on Meinecke.  The eyes of the wife, whom we'll call AlyOnooshka, followed the street west to see a mini-van, also smashed, and a felled tree. 

That AlyOnooshka, she laughed and went back to helping her three children eat their soup without making too much of a mess in their friends' house.  Rory and his host, Ale, went outside to assess the damage and talk with the authorities... first the firemen and then the policemen.

Minutes passed.  More than an hour passed.  The children were beyond exhausted and needed to get home.  So Ale took the still strangely calm AlyOnooshka and her babies home.

It turns out that Ale, when he went outside with Rory, went to the crashed mini-van to see if the driver was alright.  A man got out, said that he was fine and started walking away.  What?!  Ale was on the phone with the police, following the crashing driver on foot, with his protective neighbor following him in his car, insisting that the crasher return to the scene of the accident... which he would not do.

In the end, the police apprehended the offending driver and justice was served... -ish, I'm sure.

A few days later, Rory and his bro. went to buy a new car for the family.  The plan was to buy the new car which Rory would drive home and then Bro would follow him back in the sweet rental car, the homage to the Saharan Rebels.  AlyOnooshka happened to look out the window just as Rory was arriving.  She looked at the new car and thought, "Nice."  As she stepped away from the window, "SCREECH!  CRASH!"  Upon running back to the window, there was the rental car, smashed at the intersection of Lisbon and 68th.  "ARE YOU KIDDING ME?"  AlyOnooshka's patience evaporated, like a drop of Djiboutian sweat in July.

The heated seats of the Car of the People do help these memories fade, which is why I have written the story here.