No no no no no no NO.

In the same way as it’s not a good idea to blog while under the influence of alcohol, I’d say that it’s also unwise to blog when seething with anger. However, as my last post may have given the impression that I am passionless and devoid of strong feelings, I feel it might benefit my reputation to express a little raw emotion.

You see, I do care about some things. For the most part, stuff is just stuff, and I don’t get too caught up with material things. E2 commented the other night, following a tragic guitar-related accident, that I had a very casual attitude to ‘stuff’. “Can’t take it with me, no point getting too attached to it!” I replied cheerfully, knowing that this was exactly the right attitude to have and feeling a certain degree of smuganicity about my spot-on prioritites.

I do believe there’s some sort of correlation between pride and falls.

Yes, it seems that I do care about some material things after all. One of those things is Rio the Clio. Rio is my pride and joy, and I would not swap her for the biggest, flashiest Mercedes in the world. That is why I am ever so slightly distressed to find that while she was innocently waiting for me outside the Washbasin in Ahoghill tonight, some dishonest, careless, idiotic, downright ignorant, low-life ass crashed into her and then drove off into the night without so much as a note on the windscreen.

I want to swear repeatedly, but I’m really trying to keep this blog PG.

I mean, who does that?!!! Accidents happen, but you don’t just drive off and leave someone else to suffer the consequences. Rio the Clio has sustained the following injuries (from what I could see by the combined light of the streetlights and my phone): Front wing and passenger door cracked, dented and scored. Plastic strip that runs along bottom of door (probably has a name, but remember who’s writing this description – I don’t even know what you call the things that wipe rain off the windscreen) torn off. Sidelight off.

Life is one great big giant conspiracy sometimes, it really is. How on earth can I afford to fix the mess someone else has made of my car when I’m trying to save enough money to buy more heating oil? Selfish, ignorant, dishonest low-life. The insurance would cover it, but right now I can’t afford the insurance payments to go up either. Careless, disrespectful, arrogant idiot. So I have to drive around looking like I’ve crashed the car again. Which I haven’t, this time. I didn’t do anything wrong!! But everyone will look at Rio and judge my driving, which is of course excellent, and my poverty, which is now plain for all to see.

Woe is me and woe is Rio the Clio. I think I have to eat chocolate now. Goodnight to all, except the jackass who wrecked my car. I’m sure I will be full of good, proper Christian forgiveness tomorrow, but let me have my moment.


6 thoughts on “No no no no no no NO.

  1. Joey says:

    Aww, Hails! That sucks. I came out of a friends house one day to find someone had made a great big score down the side of my new car. (I cried but don’t tell anyone.) There are some conscience-less morons out there. Feel for ya. Poor old Rio. She’s not having a great year, is she?!

  2. MFG says:

    Nelly is right, pity we won’t see it happen, vindictive, moi?

    Ahoghill, though, doesn’t surprise me. A woman my Mum worked with lived there and her husband was hospitaised after he told some yobs to clear off from outside his house.

    If your wipers were missing it was deliberate.
    Wipers don’t come off on their own.

    I feel the pain with the heating oil, I just paid 46p per litre ! OUCH.

  3. No, wipers not torn off… the “torn off” referred to the bit before the brackets, i.e. the plastic strip that runs along the bottom of the door. I was unclear, in my anger.
    Was probably accidental, but… still.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s