Today we picked up our new golf cart. It’s pretty, shiny, and has all the bells and whistles.

Unfortunately, when we were parked in front of the dealer’s store, testing the brake lights, the sales person said, “Hit the pedal.” I was sitting in the passenger seat and he pointed to a pedal, which I hit. Unfortunately it was the accelerator, not the brake!! John had left the key on and it was in forward so it took off and hit another (NEW!!) cart. Our front was metal, the front of the other one was plastic. Ours was fine. But we now have to pay for a new front piece on the other cart!! I feel so stupid!!

John kept saying, “How could you?” and he has been really quiet and I can tell he’s really mad.

I don’t know how much it’ll cost, but the golf cart shop said, “It won’t be much.” I hope not.

I think they feel that it wasn’t totally my fault. From my view, the guy pointed at the wrong pedal. (In fact I questioningly looked at him and got a nod.) And John left the car in forward and not neutral as he’d been told to do. But I took 100% of the blame because I should have known not to hit the accelerator.

So the good feeling we got from the new cart was quickly gone. We didn’t even go to the regular Thursday Rockin’ Rendezvous. We stayed home in a quiet funk. Last night left us tired and not feeling like more beer. John said the loud music would drive him crazy tonight, so we didn’t go anywhere.