car rental gone awry
the journal of Michael Werneburg
twenty-eight years and a million words
Today I took a day off of work in lieu for the 18 hours trek back from Tokyo. I rented a car to pick up some boxes and pack some of my things.
The car is a Monte Carlo, and it's the worst thing I've ever rented. It's a two-door coupe and it's so low that I have to push my 6'5" back farther than is strictly comfortable - and I'm still bumping the ceiling. Visibility in this thing is absolutely appaling. The rear-view mirrors are tiny and badly placed, and the B and C columns are so thick that they essentially blend together into one giant blind spot.
In the parking lot of the box store, I managed to put a big scrape into the driver side door by grinding it against the bumper of a (not entirely well-parked) delivery guy's car. I hung around and waited for him to come out, and we exchanged phone numbers (happily, I had some of my personal "calling cards" on hand).
He called this evening to tell me that he'd gone to a body shop where a friend works, and got an estimate. $100.