My Car Hates Me...

Or at least, somebody out there hates me.

I am very diligent about the welfare of my vehicle. I get it serviced regularly, I don't drive the piss out of it, I wash it regularly; it's my baby.

But this has been a record year for unnecessary maintenance of my vehicle. First, some asshead vandalized the hood of my car. The damage was so severe, that I had to replace the entire hood. Then some inconsiderate fool with a hidden hitch backed into my car, leaving a square hole in the front bumper. My car had been guzzling oil, and the mechanic told me I needed the piston rings replaced. That cost another $1400.

Then Friday, we had the mother of all hailstorms. In thirty years, I have never seen such a violent hailstorm. It hailed for thirty minutes, and the hail was the size of golf balls. It was a scary and thrilling experience, standing under the shelter of the house, watching the hailstones hit the ground, and then bounce four feet in the air. The noise was deafening.

I was afraid to have a look at my car by the time the storm subsided. My car looked like it had been parked in the middle of a driving range. There are dents everywhere -- on the hood, the roof, the trunk, the port fenders and doors. Two thirds of my car could not escape the wrath of the elements.

Luckily, the glass survived. There were no cracks or broken windows. The mirrors escaped unscathed. But that matters very little. I will have no choice but to make a claim on my insurance policy, and I only wonder what this is going to do to my insurance premiums.

I am seriously pissed off. No matter what I try to do to get ahead in this life, I'm always spinning my wheels. I should resort to riding the bus the rest of my life. It would be cheaper.