Dinged

So, my new little girl, the sporty, spunky one with the sunroof? She was parked on the curb outside my office (not in the lot, because I'd gotten a stinkin' parking ticket yesterday for not having my staff permit, because I'd left it in the old car at the dealership) today and when I went out at lunch, she had a scrape alongside the driver's side, with a dent on the quarter-panel above the front tire. I noticed it first because when I looked in the side mirror, I saw nothing but sky, since it had gotten smacked out of position. Then when I got out after moving it to another 4-hour spot, I saw the damage.

The dent isn't really visible unless you're on top of it, but when you open and close the driver's side door, it creaks and rubs against the quarter-panel, so there is enough damage that it got thrown out of whack. The black molding around the wheel well is scraped to high heaven, and there is a 16-inch line scraped in the back-seat door, above the side molding. That might rub out, but still.

Wahh. I know it's not the end of the world, and I know I'm lucky to have had the chance to get my new car. But, still. Phooey. and lots of other bad, bad, bad words. I just barely filled her tank for the first time this morning, for criminy's sake. And the fool who did it didn't have the common decency to leave a note. I did go across the street to where a local PD officer was sitting in the bank parking lot watching for speeders and have him write out a report for the insurance company, but pretty much he said there wasn't a lot more he could do.

I'll have to call the insurance company in the morning and get the whole pain in the arse routine started, with taking it in to the shop, getting a rental, paying the deductible, wah, wah, wah. This hacks me off because the whole reason I got a new car was so I didn't have to mess with it being in the shop if something went wrong. Honestly, i could leave it, except for the rubbing on the door, and the fact that it's a brand-new car and it makes me wince every time I see it. If I'd done something stupid like run into a parking post (not that I did that with my first car...) or hit a guardrail on the one icy day a year we have here (Hub did that in my old Dodge Stratus), or even back into a car while parallel parking (ahem, Skatemobile did that a few times...), I'd be OK with that. But this just fries my bacon.

As my friends in Madagascar say, "Sugar Honey Iced Tea!"

ORN -- 4 miles today. I won't say it was HOT, even though it was. It was more humid, like inside of a tea kettle humid. But it's done. Six slated for tomorrow, and then by Thursday, we're supposed to get some kind of Arctic Blast that will freeze us under layers and layers of sleet and slush. Or at least drop temps below 50. Something like that.

Oh, and Ellie -- I can't normally sex a car either, but I knew she was a girl the minute I saw her at the dealership. She's the daughter I never had! And all scratched up and accident-prone like this, I now know for sure she belongs to me!