A couple of months ago, some jackass sideswipes my car and tears off the driver's side side-view mirror, also doing some damage to the front bumper and scratching up the side panels.
A couple of witnesses saw him, including one guy who got a good look at him to the point where he (witness) asked the driver "you know you just hit that car?" to which the driver replies "what do you care, it's not yours, is it?".
Buncha savages in this town.
So finally I've got the car in the shop for repairs. Thru my insurance company I rent thru Enterprise. Of course all they have is a mini-van. So today I'm cruising around in a Pontiac somethingorother. Bleh. Forget that I had a reservation (cue Seinfeld bit) for an economy car. Now I gotta go back there tomorrow to try and get a smaller car. It may have worked for Chili Palmer in Get Shorty, but not for me.
What's odd is, the only other time I've rented a car this year, I got stuck with a mini-van. That was in Nebraska in June, for Tim's wedding. That worked out well, though, as it meant a bunch of us could ride together. Still...mini-vans? Is that some sign from above that I should hurry up and get married and become a suburban soccer-dad?