"At least you got the first one out of the way."

Due to the hellacommute to my new job, El Hubbo and I broke down and bought a new car. A pretty little 2004 Toyota Corolla, grey in color. I’ve named him Gandalf the Grey. Bought him three weeks ago today.

Last Monday, I began backing out of the garage and thought, “Wow, I’m really close on the right side. I better turn the wheel a bit and give myself some more room.”

<hindsight voice>Hello, bonehead! If you pulled in straight, you should probably back out straight. Right? Right? Hello? Is this thing on?</hindsight voice>

Dinged it right above the front wheel on the passenger side. Scraped the paint down to the metal. Small ding, but it’s gonna cost me $500 (insurance covers the rest, which will be between $100 and $500). If I’m lucky and the total bill comes to $750 or less, my premium will not increase. Cross your body parts for me. All of them.

9 out of 10 people who have heard of my plight have said, “Oh well, at least you got the first one out of the way.”

The event and the aforementioned comment piss me off for several reasons:

  1. I don’t even have the permanent plates yet!
  2. I’ve had cars that have remained pristine throughout their life!
  3. How stereotypically female can I get? Gah!

Filthflarnflarnfilthfrickinfrackin’fruckin’mothertrucker.

My hindsight voice spoke up again and pointed out that this is a petty rant. I apologize to all of those who have never had a new car to ding.
It’s definitely not the end of the world.

I “keyed” my own car.

Was coming out of the mall after my one day of Christmas shopping and noticed a group of scratches on the Lexus I bought in March, all on the driver’s side door. It seemed unreasonable to me that someone would have done that to me, considering I’d parked at the far (empty) end of the parking lot just so such a thing wouldn’t happen.

The I remembered getting out of the vehicle with grocery bags under my arms and the door bouncing off the baby stroller handle a couple of times. Still, the handle was rubber and, as I thought at the time, shouldn’t have left a mark.

I double checked when I got home and sure enough, under the handle and almost but not completely recessed was a tiny metal screw. I screwed myself yet again.

Dummy.

When I bought my VW Golf a year and a half ago, I’d had it 2-3 weeks when I was rear-ended by a city bus.

Trust me, it was much better than it sounded, since I was at a stop, and the bus was going pretty slow. But still, I had to have the ass end repaired.

My first thought, when I realized it was a bus was “Oh well, at least they’re insured.”

Of all the luck.

I hit 2 mailboxes with my first car, and not at the same time. One was a whole angling/wrong pedal fiasco, and the other mailbox was really close to the road ;). I got teased after I hit the first one, but after I hit the second one it was merciless. And I wasn’t a teenager or anything, I was 27.

I’m a much better driver now.

I was driving my big ass truck one day and went past a local auto lot. A guy pulls out of the lot, doesn’t pay attention for some reason, and rear ends me at the stoplight. Not much damage at all to my truck, but it ruined the front end of his little sports car. He just bought it! He signed the papers, got his keys, hit my truck. Didn’t even drive it a quarter mile off the lot

I really felt bad for him. (no one was hurt)

Gazelle- I backed out of my garage and ran into the door that I’d forgot to open. I also managed to scrape and dent three of my parents’ cars while learning to parallel park. Hope this makes you feel better.

I just bought my Honda Civic in April. On October 10th I was rear-ended on the freeway. My insurance didn’t total the car, but it was/is pretty bad off. As of today I STILL dont have my car back from the auto body place. The insurance and the auto body are currently busy fighting over payment. I have given up hope. I will probably never see my little car again.

I had a new 1971 Plymouth station wagon; you know, the type with the crate still nailed on the side? The first car I ever bought with my own money. I was at an appliance store, came out miffed at the salesman, jumped in the car and backed across the parking lot into the concrete base of their humongous sign. Caved in the rear bumper and upguhfucked the swing gate. How embarrassing.

I took great care of that car, waxing it often and maintaining it. I came home after one deployment and discovered scratches on the hood. Seems my son was missing me so much that he took a rock and put a huge “hug and kiss” (X and O) on the thing. I really regretted having to leave him at the orphanage, since he was acting out of love, but he asked for it.

We bought a (new to us) 2000 Ford Explorer Sport about 2 months ago. Really nice showroom type condition. Sitting at a traffic light on the Friday after Thanksgiving, waiting for the green, got hit head on by a little girl who decided she couldn’t wait and turned left into oncoming traffic. Crunched the front.

Drove it home, parked it and got the truck to go to the police station to finish the report on the accident. Pulled up to a stop sign behind a guy, he decides to back up, and hits the front of my truck. Apparantely I came unglued, as witnesses said he got out of his car and ran from me. After the shouting was over, he went on his way, and the next night beat his wife to death.

Fast forward to December 23rd, pick Explorer up from body shop. Looks good. Dec 27th, grandson has appointment to see specialist. Mrs Fireman goes to pick them up, they’re not quite ready. She goes inside to wait, and leaves Explorer running, forgets to put it in park. Drives through fence, over chairs, smashes grandson’s swingset. Front crunched again. Took it to the garage and traded it. Bad luck truck.

If it’s cosmetic, just Bondo it up. Not everything has to be reported, and it’ll cost you money to do so. bout an hour with a wooden stick and sandpaper and nobody will ever know.

While I fully sympathize with your frustration here, I’m unable to really emphasize, since my car’s right fender has been plastered with duct tape and a bungi cord since September, in a desperate attempt to keep it from falling down and grinding against the front tire, subsequently making very unpleasant noises. My car may look like the automobile equivalent of a trailor park gone wrong, but I love it nonetheless, no matter how embarrassing it may be. And sadly, the accident was my fault, so no insurance. On the plus side, the other man’s car wasn’t even dinged.

Not meaning to downplay your unfortunate backing-up incident or anything here–just thinking sadly about how ridiculous my car looks. At least it still runs, and that’s really all one can ask for.

In 1977 my cousin and his wife bought a brand new Plymouth Volare. They were sitting in the car getting ready to leave the dealership when some guy came flying into parking lot and smashed into the front end of their brand new only 7 miles on the odometer car. The car was fixed but had problems the 10 years they owned it.

You don’t carry insurance on your car? I don’t quite know how it works in the US, but I was an Insurance broker in Canada for a million years, and this sort of thing is covered if you carry physical damage insurance on your car. I had an accident last year, my fault, and the damage to our car was repaired by our insurance company.

WHAT??? Good grief, tell me that was stuck in there to see who was paying attention!

After ten years of driving a big, honkin’ SUV, I got a cute li’l Saturn. We have a two-car garage that was a slightly tight fit for my SUV and the WryGuy’s Mighty Mighty Escort. So coming home from the showroom with my cute li’l Saturn, I pulled into the garage and was extra careful not to hit the Escort on my right… so careful, that I scraped the driver’s side mirror off my Saturn with the garage wall on my left.

You’re not alone, Gazelle.

In 1987 I bought a Nissan Sentra (my first new car purchase). About a month later, my then-wife and I went to see her folks for the weekend, but took her car. We left the Sentra parked on the street, in the last space before an alley.

Over the weekend a Richmond garbage truck tried to make the turn into the alley and cut the corner a little too sharp - the dragged my poor car by the left front bumper and quarter panel into a brick wall and crushed it. I got back to the City, couldn’t find my car and freaked. Tapped to the door was a note, “Dear Guy that owned the little red Sentra…”

When I made it to the body shop where the City had so graciously had it towed the owner said, “Hell, it was a trash truck, they could have just tossed the thing in the back and compacted it.”

End of story - the City of Richmond bought me a new car.

OK, confess - Who else thought this was going to be about Britney Spears and her husbands?

My dad rarely allowed me to use his car–to and from work was about it. On my 17th birthday he relented and let me stay out a bit later with his car. As I was driving through an intersection, a drunk, doing about 70, ran a red light and smashed into my passenger side front end. I did a 360 in the intersection while the drunk continued on, downing a traffic light and then taking out the storefront of two businesses. Dad’s car: totalled. My use of dad’s car: also totalled.

Obviously Gazelle, you’re not alone. I think that first dent or ding on a brand new car is so memorable because it is so painful. I can’t imagine the agony plnnr felt, but at least he got a new car out of it. (great story there btw)

Though far from dead, when the car is repaired and comes back, you could call it Gandalf the White. That’ll confuse people.

Congratulations again on your job. You’ll be great.

Urgh.

Not even two months ago, I bought a brand new Mazda Astina SP20. It’s the first brand new car I’ve ever had.

This weekend I managed to key my car. On the inside of the window. I was parked on an incline, and opened the car door, keys in hand, to get out. The door closed back on me and my keys scraped the window tint. Fuckit. :frowning:

And Algernon, you are so right. The first cut is the deepest, so they say.

I was not a happy girl that day.

Max.