And how was your day?

I am so mad, so peeved, so torqued off right now that I’m *thisclose* to having steam shoot out of my ears, Yosemite Sam like, only while wearing muddy jeans and fuzzy purple sweater:

Also, with slightly less in the mustache department

My day started off okay, as okay as it can when it involves having to kiss Mr. Monkey good-bye for the next four days. He left early this morning for a conference and the baby monkey and I got ourselves dressed and out the door with a minimum of fuss (one of us pooped our pants. I’ll let you decide which one it was).

I dropped the boy off at daycare and then went to the big city to run some errands. I was planning on taking the morning off and heading to work at noon. I did my errands, unencumbered by a small child, which is always a treat.

One of my errands involved getting more milk so as to satisfy the raging milkaholic that I live with and when I went home to drop it off before coming in to work I discovered that our car was missing. The car that had been parked in front of the house (because our driveway is too muddy to park it there. It gets stuck)when I left 3 hours earlier was gone.

A quick note: the car in question is a mud covered 1999 Saturn. The blue book value on it is about $400. It has been stolen twice (!!) in the last two years. 

Not nearly this shiny. And really, who’d steal this?

I looked up and down the country dirt road I live on, hoping for a clue. I checked the mailbox (perhaps there’d be a note? Something that just said “Sucker!”?) and nothing. At this point I saw a slowly moving piece of heavy equipment in the distance: the road grater, laying fresh gravel to fill the divots and potholes created by the stupidly long and snowy winter.

I flagged down the driver:
Me: Have you seen a blue car? It was parked up here on the side of the road
Him: Yep. Sherriff’s department just towed it.
Me: Was I parked illegally?
Him: Nah, we just need to lay some gravel down and the car was in the way. It hadn’t been moved since Monday. I went around it on Monday but I need to put the gravel down.
Me: Did you leave notice that it needed to be moved?
Him: Nope.  But the deputy went down to the house to notify you and you weren’t there.
Me (thinking): No shit. It is 11:30am on a work day.
He tells me to call the sheriff’s office to get the impound notice and drives off. I go down to the house, expecting to see a notice of some sort on the door. Nothing. I call the Sherriff’s office. They confirm that the car has been impounded. I am, at this point, furious. I was not parked illegally and I could have moved the car in less than 15 minutes if they had just A) called me or B) left notice on the car when they drove around it on Monday.
In an effort to keep this short I then had to:
1. Drive to the county court house and go to the JAIL to get my impound notice
2. Talk to the Sherriff about my “concerns” (i.e. the bullshit factor of my not illegally parked car getting towed). The Sherriff said that there was nothing they could do about it because it was a decision made by the “county engineer” (i.e. the guy putting gravel on the road), even though that guy called the deputy first and the deputy called the towing company
3. Go to work and get my administrative assistant to drop me off at the towing company to get my car.
4. Find out, after my admin leaves, that there is no one there. I call the number and they promise to send someone over. 10 minutes later a guy shows up who informs me that I owe $100.70 for the impound fees (my head explodes in righteous indignation).
5. By the way, that $100.70? Yeah, cash only. Those checks sitting on the desk? Only for people who paid at the time the car was towed. You? Cash only.
6. I have to walk to the nearby bank to get the equivalent of two weeks worth of grocery money. The bank teller asks me if five $20 dollar bills is fine. I say “Nope”.
7. I get this instead:


8. Walk back to the impound lot, dump rolls of change on the desk, grab my receipt and leave, officially in a huff.

9. Drive to the county supervisors office where I spend 35 minutes trying to get the guy to explain why I am out $100 and 2 hours of time for having my car parked in a legal place when I never got any notice that it needed to be moved. He talks and talks until I finally ask “Bottom line, can you give me my $100 back?” Nope, not unless I want to petition the entire board of supervisors at the next meeting.

10. County supervisors asks where I work and what I do and when he finds out that I work at the local college, asks for help for his nephew who wants in for the fall. I am sorely tempted to tell him that I’d be glad to help. My fee for helping? $100.70 (Cash only, bitches).

Edited to add: I am glad to have the car back but I am still so peeved. Mr. Monkey and I seem to have the worst car luck and my cheap Dutch side just CAN NOT get over wasting $100. Physically painful people.


6 thoughts on “And how was your day?

  1. Karna says:

    Oh, my dear Wendy. You indeed have had a sucky day. I hope you get your money back, but it sounds like it would cost you more hours of your life. FRUSTRATING!! I love the rolls of change…you rebel 🙂

    It’ll get better. Later, gator!


  2. Gretchen says:

    We have a ’99 blue Saturn wagon, and I gotta say, wow – that is an awful lot of trouble for that car! You’ve had the worst luck!

  3. Johanna I. says:

    Oh dear, Wendy. I really think you should fight to get your $100 back. The fact that you paid it in change, though, is freakin’ awesome.

  4. Sissyface says:

    Oh, my poor girl. My cheap Dutch heart weeps in sympthay with you. That is such unfair and unright bullsh*t, but the change was a stroke of genius. I hope the rest of your week goes better. Love ya. L-

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