Dear Evil Car Door Which Attempted to Eat My Finger But Did Not Suceed,

Oh, you evil little shit. Sure, maybe I shouldn't be driving my mom's car around because she's away and I don't have gas. And maybe finding my fucking hat wasn't that important. Regardless, you silver beast still totally tried to eat my finger and it made me very sad. It also hurt like a bitch.

I didn't even realize what had happened, you stealthy motherfucker. I was just digging around in my mom's car, looking for my hat. No hat. So I moved out of the way and closed the door. With my right hand in the door jam. Of course, unlike most every car known to humanity, my mother's car handles don't pull up to open the doors. Oh, no, you have to press a button. In my panic, I yanked on the handle, crying out. This must have been when you took a bite of my right middle finger. After about 10 seconds of yanking on the handle I pressed the button, releasing my hand from your metal grip. This is when I started to cry.

I didn't really stop crying as I dripped blood on the kitchen floor or washed my hand off, or as a got some paper towel and ice. Because of my job I'm trained fully in CPR and first aid and I've seen someone terrible things happen to unsuspecting digits; Like, someone break their own finger in door to a house - on purpose - or fall and sever their fingertip. No problem. I've remained calm. But having you try to eat my finger? I'm glad I didn't pass out.

So anyway. I hope you're happy now. I spent 24 and a half years not putting my little fingers in car doors so I'm glad I could start now. So much for the manicure I wanted.

love,
me