Get Out of Jail Free Card

It was during a wicked bout of winter sickness that I woozily drove to my doctor's office and decided to wedge our SUV into a too-tight parking spot. And as if in slow-motion, I watched myself scrape the passenger-side door against a big concrete pillar. I simmered during my doctor's appointment and called Paul as I drove home "I totally blew it," I reported, confessing my stupidity. I've never hit anything, I kept insisting to those casting furtive glances at the huge white and red streaks embedded in the door.

Flash forward six weeks and a visit yesterday to the car wash to remove the mounds of cheerios and buckets of sand still decorating the car's interior following our October beach vacation. Some $22 later, the carwash guys did a rotten job vacuuming. So we asked politely for a do-over.

As the supervisor looked on, he said "you want me to remove that paint?" pointing to the massive blemish. I'm like, Jesus, this guy can't even tell that's a scratch? Using my nail to gouge at it more, I said "it's not paint, look at it!"

So he saunters off and comes back with a rag soaked in what I will now refer to as "miracle goo." Thirty seconds later this huge, two- foot gouge was gone and the sparkling, undamaged door was returned to me, along with my unspoiled collision record. I gave him a big tip. He thought I was insane. But really, considering that I was totally maligning HIM silently for being an idiot...well...it was the very least I could do. And yes, before you need say it, we know who the idiot is.