You really have to feel pity for "the other guy." He's the one you always hear about, and bad luck seems to be his constant companion. Maybe his car was stolen, wrecked in a crash, or burnt to a cinder in a fire. May 5, 2007, was the day I became the other guy. I had just taken my '68 Camaro out of the shop, and was finishing the last details. Two weeks on the road and 500 miles on the odometer was all I got to enjoy before an inattentive driver crushed my car, along with my hopes of a summer filled with cruising. I was just happy the guy had insurance, and that I wasn't on a gurney. rnI was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time, and it can happen to anyone.
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