The One Where I Drive a Cop Car

Sometimes, I really feel like the craziest stuff happens to me.  Like earlier this month when Sister Swimmer's Boyfriend (BF YOLO is totally his nickname - you know, the motto) hit my car while trying to park in front of it.  Freak accident, for sure.  And then, in an odd turn of events, I drove a cop car through my work parking structure.

How did this come to happen?  Take a little looksie into my life.

Saturday, April 7

3:20pm

BF YOLO's back bumper of his pickup truck is not a fan of my sassy Jeep Liberty and rips her driver's side fender right off.  BF YOLO looks like he might possibly cry out of remorse, so I save my usual overacting for another time.  We call his insurance, and everthing is hunky dory.

Saturday, April 8

Easter

I made these awesome cupackes.

Unrelated, but seriously, go check them out.

Monday, April 9

12:20pm

Sister Swimmer and Hat Dad do me a solid and take my car in for an estimate.  A whopping $800+ price tag for a little old fender, of course covered by insurance. 

5:30pm

Handsome Husband and I get into a debate on whether or not a fender is necessary.  I win, as per usual.

Wednesday, April 11

8:15am

Here's what is starts to get juicy.

I drop my car off at the body shop, and the rental car is delivered to me there.  After a suprise $300 deposit (that I managed to get lowered to $50 due to subsequent arguing - I'm telling you I should be the one heading the law school), I park my booty in my new home for a few days, a fancy little Chrysler 200:

I feel pretty cool for about 4 miles, when...

8:40am

As I pull of the freeway at my exit for work, I start hearing a really loud noise that sounds like it is coming from the bottom of the car.  Being the vehicle expert I am, I assume for about a light that this car is just very loud and I had not yet noticed in the past 4 miles of driving it.  But then, as I roll down my window to flash my badge (I'm so important) to get into my parking structure, the noise sounds not normal, and I stop the car.  A quick lap around the car, and nothing looks off.  Tires are full of air, there's nothing falling off the vehicle.  Until I notice a piece of black plastic peaking out from under the front bumper.  I lean down and check it out where I discover the problem, a huge piece of plastic is coming off the bottom of the car, and had been scraping along the pavement as I drove. 

"Are you shitting me??"

'Scuse my French, but I'm just keepin' it real.

8:45am

After a frantic call to HH, I call the rental car company.  They tell me to go ahead into work and they will have somone deliver me a car as soon as possible.

9:00am

After heading into work, I get a call from the rental car company again.  Here is where my big mistake lies.  It goes down like this:

Rental Car Dude: Hello Casey, we are trying to get a car out to you ASAP.  All we've got on the lot right now are Ford Crown Victorias...is that going to be alright?

Me: Yeah, why wouldn't that be alright?  I don't care as long as the bottom is not falling off of it!

Now, do you know what a Ford Crown Victoria is?

Let me enlighten you.

Yup.

Imagine this bad boy sans blue stripe and sirens and you've got what was delivered to me.

10:00am

My cop car arrives.  I am in a state of shock I think and agree to take this vehicle.  That is, until I drive into the parking structure and feel as though I am driving a limo.  This bitch is huge!  Way too much anxiety for a stress case like me.

1:45pm

I make a call to the rental car company (who, by now, must think I am certifiable; but you know what, you're renting our Ford Crown Victorias - who is the crazy one here?), and request, ever so kindly (read: threatening to call corporate) that I get another car, anything but a cop car to drive while my car is getting fixed.  The manage obliges, thank goodness.

3:45pm

My whip for the week arrives.  It is not a cop car, and all is well with the world again.

Moral of the story?

Never never say yes to a Ford Crown Victoria.