Hey everyone... long time no see.
So the other night me and my lovely lady friend are going to my favorite pub in Worcester, the Dive Bar for St Patricks day. For those of you who have never been to Worcester it is a city filled with high curbs, pot holes, and other roadway odities designed to destroy your car. One of the most common of which is that almost every parking lot is 8"-12" or even more above the road, meaning you almost always drag your nose or tail when pulling in and out.
Anyhow back to my story. Needless to say being St Patrick's day the bar was busy. But I happen to find a good spot to park just a few doors down on the street. I pull up ever so carefully to the curb.
Me: "Careful when you open your door. The curb there is pretty high. I don't want the door to bang on it."
Her: "Ok"
What does she do? Throws the door open like there was a rabid cougar in the back seat and she was fleeing for her life. Of course the door scrapes for about an inch or so across the sidewalk.
My heart sinks, my baby (the car not the girl) is hurt.
Me: "What was that!?! That wasn't carefull"
Her: " I'm sorry I thought blah blah blah"
Me (thinking in my head): 'Murder murder murder!'
Me: "Ok close it, but carefully don't just drag it across the side walk if it won't..."
She pulls the door closed before I could finish. Now the weight of the car has shifted. Dragged for about 3 inches across the concrete, making that lovey "**** your paint job" noise that cars do when they grind across concrete.
Me: "Really?
Her: " You said blah blah blah blah"
Me (thinking to my self again): MURDER MUDER MURDER MURDER MURDER MURDER MURDER!
All i could see was red... and a body lying in an alley someplace that resembled my passenger. I was visably frustrated now because I have to repaint the bottom of my door so it won't rust. There is still a lot of salt on the road.
The worste part was she didn't even apologize. Just got cross with me for being put out that my car was damaged. I let go so as not to ruin the night but damn was I anoyed.
Not to be a sexist prick but damn some girls just don't get it. I heard "what's the big deal" about 30 times from her. The big deal is that car represents about 10 years of hard work and frustrations for me. It is the shinny red symbol of my accomplishments, however big or small they may be.
Anyhow the good news was you couldn't see anything. The bad news was it did chip the paint off the bottom of the door all the way down to the metal. I touched it up.
How many have experience similar situations?
-Pete
So the other night me and my lovely lady friend are going to my favorite pub in Worcester, the Dive Bar for St Patricks day. For those of you who have never been to Worcester it is a city filled with high curbs, pot holes, and other roadway odities designed to destroy your car. One of the most common of which is that almost every parking lot is 8"-12" or even more above the road, meaning you almost always drag your nose or tail when pulling in and out.
Anyhow back to my story. Needless to say being St Patrick's day the bar was busy. But I happen to find a good spot to park just a few doors down on the street. I pull up ever so carefully to the curb.
Me: "Careful when you open your door. The curb there is pretty high. I don't want the door to bang on it."
Her: "Ok"
What does she do? Throws the door open like there was a rabid cougar in the back seat and she was fleeing for her life. Of course the door scrapes for about an inch or so across the sidewalk.
My heart sinks, my baby (the car not the girl) is hurt.
Me: "What was that!?! That wasn't carefull"
Her: " I'm sorry I thought blah blah blah"
Me (thinking in my head): 'Murder murder murder!'
Me: "Ok close it, but carefully don't just drag it across the side walk if it won't..."
She pulls the door closed before I could finish. Now the weight of the car has shifted. Dragged for about 3 inches across the concrete, making that lovey "**** your paint job" noise that cars do when they grind across concrete.
Me: "Really?
Her: " You said blah blah blah blah"
Me (thinking to my self again): MURDER MUDER MURDER MURDER MURDER MURDER MURDER!
All i could see was red... and a body lying in an alley someplace that resembled my passenger. I was visably frustrated now because I have to repaint the bottom of my door so it won't rust. There is still a lot of salt on the road.
The worste part was she didn't even apologize. Just got cross with me for being put out that my car was damaged. I let go so as not to ruin the night but damn was I anoyed.
Not to be a sexist prick but damn some girls just don't get it. I heard "what's the big deal" about 30 times from her. The big deal is that car represents about 10 years of hard work and frustrations for me. It is the shinny red symbol of my accomplishments, however big or small they may be.
Anyhow the good news was you couldn't see anything. The bad news was it did chip the paint off the bottom of the door all the way down to the metal. I touched it up.
How many have experience similar situations?
-Pete
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