Today my niece (I will call her Lemondrop) got into a car accident. She is 18 and I have to give her credit, her accident-free record lasted approximately 2 years longer than mine. Apparently she hit a dog and ran off into a ditch. Immediately after finding out for certain that she was completely fine, I began mourning for the stranger’s dog. I hope he/she didn’t suffer.
It has been a bad couple of weeks in the car department. Last week, one of the maintenance kids in my apartment complex (somewhere around 30, everyone younger than you becomes a kid), side-swiped my front bumper. I was pretty happy with myself that night since I did not suffer a meltdown or call my mom crying at the injustice in the world. Instead, I got my thoughts together, called the insurance company, and decided that the best course of action was to be completely on top of things and get the sad bumper fixed ASAP.
The next morning, I got up early and called the usual place I take my car in these situations (that last one wasn’t my fault, either). I’ll call this place ‘Larry’s.’ Larry has been in business for over 20 years. Larry has always come highly recommended by the insurance company. So, I drove my black paint-stained bumper down to Larry. Larry then sent me to the car rental place. It was only 8:30 am by this time. Yay I am so on top of things! Then I called my local insurance agent. One of the bonuses of small towns is that you have the same insurance agent your entire driving life and they actually know you when you call. The major bonus of small towns is that the lady who works in your insurance agent’s office knows everything about everyone.
Lady had lots of info about Larry. Lady immediately told me it was a mistake to take my car to Larry. But, I said, you always send me to Larry. ‘Well we used to,’ she said, ‘before….oh you know, I hate to gossip.’ Obviously immediately I was intrigued. She told me to send the other body shop in town over to retrieve my car from Larry. Larry is not to be trusted. Then there was some mention of an upcoming trial. Well, that was enough for me. I can forgive most things as long as my personal needs are met, however I want nothing to do with someone awaiting trial. I mean really, that is not too much to ask. Awkward conversation with Larry ensued and the car got moved. Then I called Lady back. I had a sneaking suspicion that she was desperate to spill. And she did. Tales of insurance fraud. Of cars not getting fixed. And then the greatest sentence I have ever heard from an older lady: “everyone knows all the people there are on coke.”
Well, that explains Larry’s ability to fix cars so quickly. Who am I to judge someone’s hobbies? I mean as MY car gets fixed and back to me before the holiday weekend. Anyway, I had to go visit shop #2 to sign the paper giving them permission to fix my car. That’s when New Guy informed me that the last time Larry fixed my car, he actually just glued things. He showed it to me. It looked like super glue. I guess Larry figures that if super glue is strong enough to hang a man from a bridge (remember that commercial?), it is strong enough to hold your car together.
Funny quips from others at the expense of the situation:
“Maybe he liked sniffing the glue fumes along with the coke.” (my boss)
“At least it wasn’t duct-taped together.” (my sweetie, I shall call him Smarty, AND my boss. Lesson learned – men love duct tape)
