Adventures with the Kia Rio

Today I took the rented Kia Rio back home to ABQ, and good riddance to it.

I couldn't drop it off early, the sweet little dollie at the counter told me when I rented it, because there would be a penalty. So I couldn't take it back last week when I picked up Sophie. And if I returned it one minute past noon today, I'd be charged for an extra day. Timing was obviously of the essence.

Uncle P picked me up at the store this morning at 9:00 and followed me to ABQ in Sophie. I filled the Kia up ("If you don't fill it up, we'll charge you $6.99 a gallon to do it for you.") and drove it to the Budget Rental Car place on San Mateo where I had picked it up last month. The place was closed! A notice, written in a barbed and illiterate hand, was posted on the door and stated that rentals should be returned to the Budget place on the Pan American Freeway. Uncle P called the place for directions, and, backtracking four miles, we met at the new place.

The guy ahead of me in line got steamed because his credit card had been declined. So he did the logical, rational thing: he kicked out the glass front door of the rental office. The Budget staff surged out to the parking lot to the kicker's truck to block his way, and the remaining person called the cops. I couldn't hear what the Budget guys and the kicker were saying to each other, but by reading their lips, they seemed to be saying vacuum a lot.

Meanwhile, back in the office, the sweet little dollie at the counter asked if I'd like to put a $25.00 charge on my credit card. I asked, "For what, please? I prepaid online." She went back to the computer and tapped away for an unconscionable time and studied the monitor with all the intensity of a scholar of the Talmud. Finally she declared that I was all paid up and didn't need to fork over the extra dough. I was free to go. I asked for my receipt. "Eeee! I forgot," she said and printed it out.

When I passed the other Budget employees and the kicker, the kicker said, "Why don't you just call the glass company, and I'll pay for your door right now." The Budget guy said, "No. The cops are coming."

When Uncle P and I passed them in the air-conditioned comfort of Sophie, they were still saying vacuum.

The "CAT FOLDER" is a handy tool. You just insert Flicker in the slot, press the button, and presto! a handy folded kitteh can fit comfortably in the glove compartment.

Vacuum.

Sophie's injuries

This morning I had my appointment to take Sophie to our insurance adjusters, who are set up in the high school parking lot to assess her injuries after the hailstorm. They wrote me a check to fix the

• hood,
• front fenders,
• doors,
• trim,
• trunk lid,
• roof,
• headlights,
• windshield,
• rear window,
• bumpers, and
• driver's side mirror.

In other words, Sophie is getting a whole new body. Michele took her VW wagon in yesterday, and she has to wait a few days to find out whether State Farm is going to total it.

Friday morning the insurance guy is coming to check the house. I'm betting we need a new roof.

A Kevlar® hail umbrella for the house and cars would have saved us a lot of trouble.

P-Doobie's Auto Body and Fill Dirt

I was walking past Sophie in the carport and accidentally bumped her boo-boo. The sound was sort of plasticky, and I felt the panel give a little. I pushed it hard, and it popped right back into place! TA-DA! I didn't have to take her to the body shop after all. And, using P-Doobie's Law of Compensatory Cash Flow, I now have $400.00 to spend that I would have spent on repairs.


Sophie says, "Except for a cosmetic scrape, I'm as good as new!"

'Twas ever thus

I paid off my car in May. Yesterday as we were loading Ike into the car for walkies and donut holes downtown, Michele said, "Somebody banged your car." And sure enough, some @%$^*@ had hit the back bumper, dislocated a panel, and left without leaving a note. I'm steamed. (An' P-doobie don't like bein' steamed.) I'll take it to a body shop and get an estimate. If it's reasonable, I'll pay out of pocket. Son of a . . . .


Ouch!


Scccccrrrrape!

I got my eyes checked (why, P-doobie? Don't you like them striped?) on Thursday, and I'm getting new reading glasses with anti-glare coating so I work at the computer at the store with less strain and with transitional lenses so I can read outside. I also told the nice helper that I want frames that would be suitable for use by a 12-year-old boy. I'm hard on frames.

Our white roses are blooming in the back yard.