Sep. 10th, 2008

sprinkletheif: (punching yourself in the head)
so i FINALLY got henry back today, after calling the insurance guy and bursting out into tears when telling him all the repercussions this wait has had on my life. i just hope that the work they did is nothing like the complimentary car wash and wax and paint job they gave me. you can SEE the grain marks where they buffed the paint, and seriously - WHO WAXES A FUCKING WINDOW FOR CHRISSAKE?!?! i am VERY grateful to have him back tho. rejoice! i'll give you a minute to happy dance for me. good? okay.

so as i was walking out of the grocery store today toward my car (reveling in the fact that i was doing such a thing), a red cavalier is backing into the spot in front of me, it's occupant chatting away on her cell phone. she backs into my front end. no shit. slowly and evenly, she backs right the fuck into my front end that was just replaced in it's entirety. she puts the car in park and continues her conversation.

i calmly walk up to her car, still running, and tap on the window. she puts up the "hold on a sec" finger while continuing to converse. i wait patiently while she wraps up for a few minutes, then tap again. i got the "hold on a sec" finger again. refraining from punching through her fucking window and ripping her out by her goddamn throat i forcibly knock on the window. eye contact! ah ha! she rolls down her window while telling her friend to hold on, quite obviously annoyed. i then - as calmly and concisely as possible, making sure not to stutter - tell her that had better be the goddamn pope on the other end of the line or so help me i will gut her right then and there.

that got her attention.

just as she's about to lay into me i interject with "listen bitch, you just backed into my car - my car that i just got back after 3 and a half weeks of extensive front end repair" to which she replies "no i didn't!" i ask her to get out and look. sure enough, her (still running) car is parked snugly and safely into the front of mine. i am then covered with a shower of "OMG i'm like SO sorry!" as she gets in her car to pull it forward so we can assess the damage. i'm relieved to see that there is nothing but a slight scratch in the thick-ass layer of wax left for me by the mechanics and a tiny scrape in the paint. no 3-week-long repair job, everything's fine.

i inform her that she really needs to either drive OR talk on the cell phone because she clearly cannot do both. she laughs slightly and says, i shit you not, "that's what my dad said after my last accident." ::stare::

and i'm *not* supposed to go on murderous rampages WHY exactly?!?

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