Serves Me Right - An Elegy For My Car
Do not park a new car on the streets of Jersey City. An obvious proposition you say? Unfortunately, it was not so obvious to me.
This past August, I decided to buy a car. A fairly nice car. Seeing the large number of nice to very nice cars (why someone with a Porsche would be living in Jersey City, I don't know) on the street in my neighborhood, I decided to go the $3 parking permit route rather than finding a garage. This was a mistake.
Last month, my car got keyed. All the way down the passenger side. Surprisingly, I was not all that angry. There was not quite enough damage to justify the higher insurance rates I would incur by having it fixed (yet enough to make me hesitant to pay for repairs out-of-pocket), so I spent some time waxing away at the eight foot scratch until it was presentable.
Figuring that no one would bother my car again (it already having been keyed and all), I continued to park the car on the street. This was also a mistake. Two brand new (and rather creatively executed) scratches - all the way down the passenger side of course - greeted me on my walk to the subway this morning. I am not that angry. I am, however, feeling remarkably foolish. Although surely no one will bother a car with three full-length scratches, I am finally facing the possibility that it may be time to find a local garage. As for now, I can only hope that I can cover up the new damage and that An Ode To Turtle Wax will be forthcoming.
Postscript: The Porsche was also on the street last night. No one touched it.
<< Home