What the Hell?

This week my poor car was hit. Again. Three weeks ago when walking the dogs I noticed that someone had bashed my trunk. I don't know when, where or who. And because I don't know any of that the insurance company, though sympathetic, was pretty much, "Well, good luck with that. If the repairs cost more than your deductable give us a call back."

Super.

Then this week while I was at work one of the supervisors called me over the walkie talkie to say there was a customer I needed to speak to. I was assuming it was an angry one but the lady in question was very kind and apologetic as she led with, "Do you drive a red Toyota?"

You know you're going to love those conversations.

The scrape in question was so minor as to be completely unnoticable-I didn't even take any insurance info from the woman especially after hearing how she waited in the parking lot for an hour because she thought it was a customer's car. That kind of dedication to doing the right thing did cheer me some even as I wanted to cry in frustration.

What the hell? This is the fourth time a car of mine has been hit while properly parked in a parking lot, the third time alone with this car. What is it with Eudora that makes her such an attractive target? Yes, she's red (or burgandy actually) but that can't be the explaination. What the hell?