Day: March 13, 2017

Sometimes I Don’t Know My Own Strength

You’ll recall that by distracting a random-but-extra-hapless automobile driver, I involved the human female in a rear-end collision, which left her beloved little blue car languishing at the autobody shop, waiting for Claims-R-Us to cough up the money for the repairs.  As much as I would like to pretend that all is now well, and as much as I abhor emotions of the ovine variety, I must sheepishly admit that things went from bad to worse…  My little traffic spell sort of snowballed.

To the point that this was the humans’ recent shopping list.


For, lo!  When the repair shop finally got an estimate from Ho-hum Claims-R-Us, they began work on the vehicle. When they opened the rear door, they found a nasty surprise.


Turns out that Mr. Highway Sonata had submarined right up under the poor CRV and crumpled up the floor in the cargo area.  See that bulge behind us?  Yeah, that’s supposed to be  _flat_.

Aaaaand, since the car is seventeen years old and worth about what you’d pay for a large popcorn and a soda at the local cinema, the insurance company decided to total it.


The human female had to decide whether to walk away from what was essentially a family member with four round rubber feet or take the money, buy the car back from the insurance company for blue-book value minus salvage, repair it, and always wonder if the collision had damaged the frame so that it wasn’t entirely safe.

After some anguish and far too much whining for my taste, she decided to go talk to:


Who actually had a very nice used CRV at a decent price.  So now, instead of an ancient, bright blue little car, the human female has a slightly newer, boringboringboring silver little car.  She got all choked up when she went to the repair shop to clean out the sad old car.  (I saw to it that she forgot to get the parking hang tag when she did so, so there’s the fun of replacing that to look forward to!)

So she’s moderately happy.

She’d be happier if I hadn’t put my meddling little paws on the situation again.  (Satisfaction is not in my nature, and I couldn’t allow things to be neatly resolved!)  Percy from Claims-R-Us told her there’d be papers to sign so the title of the old car could pass to them.  It was very, very important that she sign the originals and get them back to him promptly!  She waited for the e-mail with the documents.  And waited.  And waited.  Finally, an email arrived!  Consisting entirely of instructions on how to sign the back of the title.  Nothing else.  So she contacted Claims-R-Us.  Nope!  That’s it!  Way to obfuscate, Percy.  Now she just has to wait for the check to arrive at Claims-R-Us so that an exchange of hostages (check for title) can proceed.  Oh, and wait for the Honda folks to finish the wheel alignment and detailing they promised to do on the new car.  And wait for the new car’s old owner to drop by the spare keys.

We’ll see how long I can s  t  r  e  t  c  h   this out!   Bets?

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