Car adventures (written June 12, 2017)

Note, May 28, 2018: For some reason this post was never published. It seems to be incomplete, but maybe I ended it where I wanted to. I see no reason not to publish it, since it contains an important bit of personal history.

The draft of this post was originally dated June 12, 2017.


My mom and I were rear-ended at an active crosswalk while on the way to the vet two weeks ago, on May 31, 2017. (I stopped at a flashing yellow crosswalk to let a woman with a stroller cross. The truck behind us was following too close and too fast and disd't stop all the way in time.) The car took damage to the trunk and bumper. One rear light was damaged, and the left quarter-panel was bent slightly. We were belted, so we were fine, though my mom though my mom had her arm inside the pet carrier and got some bruises.

(NOTE, May 28, 2018: She actually did sustain some shoulder and back trauma, for which she is still getting physical therapy. I didn't suffer any long-term physical effects, though I now have an aversion to stopping at yellow lights, flashing crosswalks, or for ladies pushing baby strollers - you never know what kind of idiot is behind you.)

I took the car to a body shop recommended by my brother last Wednesday, June 7. They said that if they took it in right away they could get started right away, but if I waited to bring it in until Monday (today) they didn't know how long it might take. I dropped the car off and called the car rental place that was recommended by my family (at my mom's insistence, really.) But rather than coming there with a car, as everyone assured me they would, they came and picked me up to take me to the rental site - which was mostly in boxes, since they were about to move into a new location. In fact, they didn't have many cars to choose from: a BMW X3 luxury crossover SUV, or nothing. I took the car, hoping insurance would cover it for the week or so the car would be in the shop.

(It is a fine car, I am sure, for someone who appreciates all it has to offer. Pushbutton start. Backup camera. Unfathomable console features. A radio so complex that the entry in the owner's manual says, unhelpfully, "See owner's manual.")

The next day, June 8, I got a call from the body shop: getting the parts and repairing the car would take eight days. Longer than I hoped, but acceptable; I wouldn't be paying too much out-of-pocket for the 20% of the rental, even if we hit the insurance company's maximum of $500.00. Fine, I said. OK, they said. The car would be ready June 20th.

I hung up the phone and thought wait what.

I called them back, Yes, that would be eight business days. Twelve calendar days. Twelve car rental days.

I called the car rental place and told them there was no way in hell I could afford a BMW X3 luxury crossover SUV through June 20th. Did they have anything...smaller? Yes, they told me, something smaller would be in that afternoon. Stop by around 5:00.

I stopped by that afternoon to find even more of the location in boxes. The manager waited on me personally. He inspected the BMW, and let me know that they did indeed have something smaller that afternoon. An Audi. It would be the same price, of course, but it was decidedly smaller.

I drove off in the BMW. My weekend was over, and a shift-change shortened three-day week was about to begin.

Today, Monday, June 12, is my first "Saturday" of my new schedule. I called the body shop this morning. Yes, the car was still on schedule to be finished by the 20th. I checked the rental agency website and verified that yes, they did have an economy car available. I called them and told them I wanted to swap out the car. They advised me to come in around 3:00.

Before I returned it I took a few photos of the BMW. I walked around the car, carefully shooting it from each angle. Finished, I put down my camera and fumbled in my pocket for the key fob.

As I was standing there on the sidewalk a white van pulled up to the stop sign on the nearby cross-street. It lingered there, despite an absence of traffic. After a few seconds the door on the side slid open slightly, and someone in the back compartment - young and male, by the timbre of the voice - shouted a hearty "FUCK YOU!" The door then shut and the van drove off.