Bing Crosby and getting my bumper buffed
About a month ago Room mate #1 cleaned out the smaller side of the garage and handed me my very own garage door opener.
I felt like Kyra Sedgwick in Singles.
"Why don't you try and see if you can get your car in there."
I trooped out to my car, pulled around to the alley and oh so gingerly put Sammy the Saturn in her new home.
"There's not much room there. You may have to back up then pull in if you come from that one side."
"O.k. So does this mean my days of fighting with the neighbors over the spots in front of the house are over?"
"I guess so."
It was like Christmas three weeks early. No more scraping off in the mornings. No more leaving for work 15 minutes early just so I can let the car warm up. No more worrying about the kid next door hitting my car. Finally, it had its own home.
The very next day as I was pulling in from work, still giddy about the idea of using a garage door opener, I thought I heard a little scrape coming from the front right bumper.
Nah, it couldn't be, I said to myself as I got out. The first day? I'm not even that bad.
Oh, but apparantly I am.
Because the next day, there was a nice size swatch of white paint on my baby's front right side. And a black mark on the garage to match it. Since I'm not exactly a member of the Rockefeller clan, getting it fixed ASAP by a professional was out of the question. Hell, I'm still sporting the ding in my windshield from last winter.
Enter friend James. Mr. Self Car Repair himself. Somewhere in the midst of conversation I happened to mention what I did. After he rolled his eyes at me he told me he'd buff it out. Maybe sand if it needed it.
The other night he called to see what my schedule was like this week. When I hung up, Room mate #1, being the nosy bitch he is, asked me what was going on.
"James is coming down Thursday to buff out my bumper."
With one raised eyebrow came the reply.
"Oh, so that's what you're calling it now."
I didn't even dignify it with a response.
Tonight he came down and finally buffed the bumper. I must say, you can hardly even tell the white paint was there. And it only took him about 15 minutes. Come to think of it, that's not unlike some of my formers...but again, as I do so many times, I digress.
After he was done friend James grabbed a cookie and headed off to meet some friends out at a bar. He invited me out, but I declined. Tonight was for baking cookies, sipping Bailey's and milk and watching the best Christmas movie ever...White Christmas.