Pimpin' in the Camry

As some of you know, I gave up my beloved car in November. Well really, it more gave up on me, but that’s semantics…. Now I know for you suburbanites, going without a car would be somewhat akin to giving up your right foot, but this is New York City. There’s literally nowhere I need to go that I can’t get to on public transportation. So I’ve been walking, busing, or training it everywhere.

But my dad, my lovely, lovely dad, lent me his car for the month of July. Not only do I get to drive, this car has two things my old one didn’t—air conditiong AND an AM/FM Radio. Unless you’ve been there, I can guarantee you that you have absolutely no frame of reference for what it’s like to drive 200 miles each way Fourth of July weekend, with heat in the high 90s, the windows open, listening to Radio Disney because it’s the only station that comes in.

So here’s the scenario: I’m going to Rhode Island for the 4th because it’s my parents’ 52nd anniversary. I’m all excited. I go out drinking Tuesday night, because hey, I have a car. I can just drive to Rhode Island in the morning. I get up early on Wednesday, pack up, get ready to leave and realize it. I. Have. No. Keys.

My house keys are still in my purse. My parents’ house keys. The keys my friend gave me so that I can get into her apartment in times of crisis. Yup, all there. But the key to dad’s car? Not so much. I tear apart my entire apartment. Nothing. I call AAA to get them to send someone out on the off chance that (Please, God) I accidentally locked them in the trunk They remind me that my subscription has expired. I didn’t renew it since, you know, I don’t own a car. So I pull out my credit card, and they send someone to unlock the car. (Current stupid mistake price tag: $58.00, one hour looking for keys, and a call to Sarah that begins with “I have to tell you something. But if you laugh our friendship is over.”).

The nice garage man comes and no dice. So now it’s back on the phone with AAA, so they can send out a locksmith. (Current tally, $58, 2 hours, 6 phone calls to Sarah, and one to my family informing them “something came up and I won’t be making it to lunch.”) The locksmith comes, removes the lock from the trunk, takes it back to the shop, and makes me 2 keys. All for the low, low price of $250. Because if you’re going to do something stupid, why not do it on a national holiday when it’s even more expensive to fix it? For those of you keeping count at home, we’re up to $308, four hours, and a phone call to Sarah involving the words “I really think I’m going to throw up.”

So I finally get on the road. I make it to Rhode Island, pull into the campground where my family is spending the weekend. Great, yes? No. Because I can’t find the campsite where I’m meant to leave my car. One would think that the numbers would go in order, right? But one would think wrong. I’m looking for 541—538, 539, 540, 542.Huh? So I kick it into reverse, thinking I must have driven past it. And that’s when I hear the loud crunching noise. Yes, hat there’s one lone tree planted out four feet further than any of the other trees. And that tree is standing where my side mirror used to be.

So I can just refuse to explain why I’m late, but the missing piece of my dad’s car? That’s not one I can brush over.

Me: So you might have noticed that your car used to have a side mirror, but doesn’t anymore.
Dad: What happened?
Me: It’s gone.
Dad: (Now speaking slowly carefully) What…Happened?
Me: I don't want to talk about it. It’s just gone.
Dad: Did…You…Get…In…An…Accident…With…My…Car?
Me: No. I hit a tree. I’ll get it fixed.
Dad: (Relieved now that he doesn’t have to deal with the insurance company) You do realize that it costs at least $250 to replace the mirror, right?

So yes, grand tally: $558, one humiliating conversation with my dad, and reconfirming the popular family opinion that I’m a complete flake. Good thing I borrowed the car and saved myself that $65 on a bus ticket, eh?




p.s. If you know my dad, he doesn’t know about the whole lost key part. Let’s keep it on the down low, shall we?

p.p.s My sisters and brothers-in-law were taking bets as to why I was late. Popular opinions included both a hangover and me having an overnight guest. If only…

p.p.p.s My friend’s husband, He-Who-Can-Fix-Anything, found me a used mirror for $100 and is fixing it for me. I heart him. While this will most likely be paid in the previously mentioned currency, I will not be the one paying the debt. Way to take one for the team, my friend.