More Car Trouble

I knew it.

Dammit.

Back in mid-October, Eric took my car to the airport to pick his dad up.
Lyssa and Mason went along for the ride.

When they got back, all of them were quite concerned about a rubbing or grinding noise from the right rear of the car. I had been driving it for a month post-crash and hadn't heard it, but Eric said he thought it had something to do with the extra weight of two adult humans and a large suitcase over the wheel that had been hit and that when I took it in to be fixed, to make sure and tell them.

So I don't like the bossy guy they have dealing with everything.
He's condescending.
I've encountered him three times, which is three times too many. He's small in stature, which sometimes makes guys act insecure and arrogant, and from his complexion and accent, I think he's from somewhere in the Middle East, which means culturally, he thinks he's superior to women. It really shows.

The first time I met him, I stopped by to pick up a few things that were in my vehicle, I needed my box with tissues and my on the road tool kit, flares and first aid etc. Also my little collapsible hand truck for work. That thing is a wonder. Couldn't live without it.

It's hard to put his attitude into words, but he talked down to me. I asked him if he was sure it was going to be safe to drive the car while awaiting repairs, and he just almost patted me on the head and said, 'there there'.

He acted like the damages were no big deal. He actually used those words. "Is small accident, " he said. "Is not big deal."

Dude, I am taller than you and I waaaaay outweigh you.
Don't treat me like a child.
And, uh... were you there?

At the time I still had a Sylvester bump on my head from flying up outa my seat and hitting the Jesus handle.

(And yes, I was wearing my seatbelt... I am guessing the seatbelt didn't lock up since it was a side crash?)

Simulated Head Bump. This is not me in the picture.

So to me it was a big deal. Oh I know that many accidents are much worse, and I was relatively unscathed, but even a small crash is traumatic and inconvenient and aggravating.

If you're a woman, you know that handling automotive stuff is often annoying and adversarial and rude.

I won't even take my car in for an oil change. I know those guys try to get people to buy products and services that aren't necessary, but I don't know enough about cars to speak with them.
Eric handles that stuff.

I *will* go buy tires, but if they try to tell me I need brakes or some other thing, I hand off to the man.

In the past, I have had more than one mechanic try to sell me things for my car that I did not need.

On one occasion the guy at Midas tried to tell me I needed a whole new exhaust system, and when I said I needed to check with my husband, he pretended he'd made a mistake about which car was mine, "Which car is yours? The Mercury? Oh! I thought you were in the Ford! Your car is just fine, ready to go!" He put on a smarmy, blustery personality and acted like I was a long lost friend, calling my three year old, "Pal" and "Buddy" and waaaay overdoing the 'what a great kid' schtick.

ANYWAY....

When I returned the rental car and went to get my car back, I saw the guy again. I asked him a couple times, "You're sure it's safe to drive like this, right?"

He stopped short of rolling his eyes and didn't pat me on the arm, but the attitude was there all the same. He repeated, "Was small accident," with the same insincere smile. 

I had a feeling, based on absolutely nothing, that more was going on in my little crashed up car, but what was I supposed to do? Eric looked at it and said that all bolts were intact and that except for the dents, it seemed okay.

I got from point A to point B just fine.

I took the car in a week ago for repairs after the accident.
My insurer emailed me to tell me that 'repairs have begun' and that I should expect my car to be ready on December 3rd.

Great. I figured I could turn in my rental and get my car by the end of this week.

Until today. I was checking kids  in, making sure everyone who's supposed to be there *is* there has to be my first priority when school is out for the afternoon. Can't have missing kids without accounting for where they are.

I saw my phone light up and saw who was calling, but I couldn't answer at the time, so I sent the call to voice mail.

As soon as I had a spare moment, I listened to the call.

"We've found much more damage than we originally thought," she said. "We'll be contacting your insurance company. Please give us a call."

I called them about 20 minutes later and asked them to define 'much more damage'.
She said, "Please hold," and transferred the call to Mr. Pipsqueak.

Mr.Pipsqueak told me the rear axle was bent and that they couldn't repair the car 'to spec'. "We've ordered more parts," he said, "And we'll let you know what's going on as soon as we can."

I didn't say any of the profanities that were in my head, and didn't remind him of his words, "Was small accident."

Well shit.

Of course, it's an inconvenience to me, but I'd sure hate to be the uninsured person who hit my car.
Her original 'about 4 grand' is about to get a lot larger.