I just realized, I haven't updated you guys on what's going on with my car.
A couple of weeks ago, I managed to pull something stuріԁ. While at the Packed With Pride food bank, I pulled my car a little bit too far forward in the parking space I had taken, and scraped my front bumper on the little concrete thingy. When I backed up, it pulled the bumper partly off.
I told my dad that we needed to fix it, that I wasn't going to be driving around without a bumper, but he wanted to repair a 2013 Honda Insight with fricking BALING WIRE! So I basically gave up on talking to him about it, because he refused to talk sense. I figured I'd have Brian take a look at it, and see if he could shove the bumper back on the little clips. Then that weekend, I couldn't figure out why I wasn't able to text him. Turns out my phone was randomly encrypting text messages to him, and he couldn't decrypt them. So the whole weekend was wasted, and I basically gave up on fixing the problem.
Fast forward to yesterday. I had just gotten back from taking Prince Hairy to the vet (by the way, his blood sugar was over 400, so now we're increasing his insulin, which is a thing nobody should ever have to say about their cat), and I stopped at the Sherwood 7-Eleven. Once again, my dumb аss pulled a bit too far forward, and I caught the bumper again. This time as I backed up, part of the brush guard fell in such a fashion that it was hanging all the way to the ground. This was at 3:30 in the afternoon, 13 and 1/2 hours ago. I called Mom to tell her what was happening, and we agreed it needed to go to Sherwood Auto Body.
But how to get it there? Well, that's easy. Tow truck. Or at least, it would be easy, if Dad had allowed us to pay for AAA this year. No such luck. He'd rather I pay 200 bucks to Fox Towing for a single tow than $150 to AAA for like five trips over the next year. Pennywise and pound-foolish, as they say.
But wait! There's more! Because as I waited there with my fluffy little man, I got a call from the tow truck driver. Poor guy was lost, because some genius at the company had given him an address in the next town over. There wasn't even a 7-Eleven where they sent him. I was waiting over an hour with my cat in his little carrier, which he had befouled because he didn't have a litter box. I don't know which one of us was more annoyed with the situation.
Anyway, after the last call from him, I called Mom and had her drive our big ugly аss work van, with the trailer still hooked up, to come get me, which I know is her absolute favorite. A few minutes after she got there, I saw the tow truck. Not in the parking lot where I was, mind you. In the parking lot across the street, because I told him we were across from the KFC and the old movie theater. So of course, because I told him what was on the other side of the street from us, that's where he started. Poor guy didn't know there was a fricking divider on that part of Tualatin-Sherwood road. So it was another ten minutes before he figured out how to get to where I was from where he was.
And the worst part? In order to get the car up on to the tow truck without doing further damage, you know what he had to do?
Tie the bumper up with baling wire.
I told my dad that we needed to fix it, that I wasn't going to be driving around without a bumper, but he wanted to repair a 2013 Honda Insight with fricking BALING WIRE! So I basically gave up on talking to him about it, because he refused to talk sense. I figured I'd have Brian take a look at it, and see if he could shove the bumper back on the little clips. Then that weekend, I couldn't figure out why I wasn't able to text him. Turns out my phone was randomly encrypting text messages to him, and he couldn't decrypt them. So the whole weekend was wasted, and I basically gave up on fixing the problem.
Fast forward to yesterday. I had just gotten back from taking Prince Hairy to the vet (by the way, his blood sugar was over 400, so now we're increasing his insulin, which is a thing nobody should ever have to say about their cat), and I stopped at the Sherwood 7-Eleven. Once again, my dumb аss pulled a bit too far forward, and I caught the bumper again. This time as I backed up, part of the brush guard fell in such a fashion that it was hanging all the way to the ground. This was at 3:30 in the afternoon, 13 and 1/2 hours ago. I called Mom to tell her what was happening, and we agreed it needed to go to Sherwood Auto Body.
But how to get it there? Well, that's easy. Tow truck. Or at least, it would be easy, if Dad had allowed us to pay for AAA this year. No such luck. He'd rather I pay 200 bucks to Fox Towing for a single tow than $150 to AAA for like five trips over the next year. Pennywise and pound-foolish, as they say.
But wait! There's more! Because as I waited there with my fluffy little man, I got a call from the tow truck driver. Poor guy was lost, because some genius at the company had given him an address in the next town over. There wasn't even a 7-Eleven where they sent him. I was waiting over an hour with my cat in his little carrier, which he had befouled because he didn't have a litter box. I don't know which one of us was more annoyed with the situation.
Anyway, after the last call from him, I called Mom and had her drive our big ugly аss work van, with the trailer still hooked up, to come get me, which I know is her absolute favorite. A few minutes after she got there, I saw the tow truck. Not in the parking lot where I was, mind you. In the parking lot across the street, because I told him we were across from the KFC and the old movie theater. So of course, because I told him what was on the other side of the street from us, that's where he started. Poor guy didn't know there was a fricking divider on that part of Tualatin-Sherwood road. So it was another ten minutes before he figured out how to get to where I was from where he was.
And the worst part? In order to get the car up on to the tow truck without doing further damage, you know what he had to do?
Tie the bumper up with baling wire.
46-50, M
