I have a new man in my life.
And he is doing his very best to make me miserable. He is the guy at my car dealer’s body shop, the one overseeing repairs resulting from last week’s New York City extravaganza, my own Judgment Night, when my wits were tested as I waited six hours overnight on a city street for a tow truck after hitting a pothole that rendered my 10 month-old SUV not drivable and, as I discovered, not towable by most tow trucks.
It is the hellish night that will not end. The one I cannot seem to move past. I have been inconvenienced now for over two weeks because of it. Why? I love my car and that bitch, New York City, stole my ride.
The damage was extensive, exceeding $6,000, after the puzzle piece of pavement matching the pothole’s cutout catapulted into the undercarriage of my car taking out the exhaust, air conditioner, battery, and damaging the car’s frame beneath the passenger seat in one fell swoop.
My newfound friend at the body shop does not care. Not one iota. And he is arrogant on top of it, refusing to offer me a loaner car, of which he admittedly has eight, because those are reserved for “paying” customers, those whose cars are being serviced, and not being subsidized as part of an insurance claim.
What. The. Hell?
I am a student of logic and the way I see it, I pay the insurance premium covering this little mishap, less my out-of-pocket deductible (not insubstantial) and, I believe most importantly, made the choice myself to direct the repairs there. Surely that should mean something.
Nope. From what I gather, it means bupkis.
That I have to spend money renting a car is of no concern to my new pal, who cockily advised the insurance agent and me that this is an insurance matter and not his problem. He is adamant about his position, arguably rude as depicted by the agent who called to advocate on my behalf, and is altogether unhelpful. I must say I agree with the assessment.
What is the upside to being difficult for the mere sake of it? Why deliberately go out of his way to be unhelpful, rude even, to me when he is in a position to do otherwise, notwithstanding the prospect of my future business which is apparently of no consequence to this man?
Perhaps he is of the mindset that no good deed goes unpunished? If that is the case, there will be a lot of people sh*t out of luck. Because, truly, there are many do-gooders out there, I, hopefully, being one of them.
Or maybe he is just plain old mean. Yes, some people are simply not nice. Now, obviously, I do not know this guy personally, nor have I yet to meet him in person. He may very well be the life of the party. If that is indeed the case, it does seem my invitation somehow got lost in the mail.
Yet, I remain polite each time we speak, cordial even, as he continues to be annoyingly evasive about the return of my car, patronizingly reminding me during each and every conversation we have that there is A LOT of damage. Yes, I get it. But more than three weeks worth of repairs? I find that hard to believe.
Many people become bitter after divorce. Sometimes downright nasty. I can actually say I became nicer. Why? Because before my divorce I was miserable, though I may not have been altogether aware that is what caused the chip on my shoulder I had developed by the end of my marriage. That edge is now gone (most of the time), and when I come across negative people, I deliberately become more cheerful, hopefully bringing out the best in them, while not allowing anyone else to bring me down.
Now 18 days after my accident, and as the daily bill for the uncovered portion of my rental car expenses continues to tally, I still have little idea when my car will be ready. All I can say is that I hope it comes back to me not only fixed but also improved.
A girl can dream.