If there is one thing I have learned in the past few months, it's that I don't ever want to let anything happen to my car again. I mean, it wasn't at all my fault that someone decided to run a stop sign and smash it, but OMG did I pay the price for her error.
That's how long it took to get my car back.
Apparently Audi parts are made of leprechaun poop, unicorn horns, and zombie sweat. The only way to get all three ingredients together is for a tiny fairy to walk slowly from the United States to Germany and then dispatch her minions to China to conjure up some magic. Along the way, the minions take a tour of Australia, swim to Greenland, and fly to the moon. Then, and only then, will they work with the fairy to contact Santa so he can deliver the part to the body shop.
Oh, and if the body shop thinks they have everything fixed, but then finds more damage? Expect to have to repeat the whole process. At least twice.
Seriously, there wasn't much damage at all, but it took FOR-FREAKIN-EVER for the parts to all come in. I about lost my mind waiting because I loathe driving a rental car. LOATHE. It's not that the Toyota I was driving was all that bad, it was that I constantly felt like there was a target on the thing. I really didn't want to deal with it getting scratched or dented or whatever. I was absolutely certain that it would happen, too.
Fortunately, I was wrong. Unfortunately, it turns out the target is actually on my now completely scratch-and-dent-free Audrey.
Just today, the commute from Alexis' preschool to our house involved a deer running into the road, inches from the passenger side door. Yesterday there were three turkeys hiding in the road at a blind curb. There have been groundhogs, birds, and even a cow, all vying to be the first to punch my car in the face. I haven't even had it back for a full week yet.
And then there are the humans.
Pittsburghers, why do you keep crossing the center line? And why do you insist on turning left in front of me? And is there a reason you keep tailgating me? KNOCK IT OFF.
I hate my car, but I hate it even more when she takes an extended vacation at the body shop.