It's Wednesday and you know what that means! It means it's WIP Wednesday.
Today, however, I have a WIP of a non-fiber sort (sort of).......and I'm going to warn you now, if you don't like *ahem* colorful language, I suggest you skive off for now because I suspect that I'm going to get all worked up again and I'll probably drop (quite) a few words unbefitting of a lady (translation: I'm about to get extremely mouthy).
Go ahead, wander off..........I'll wait 'til you're gone before I begin.
And now on to things that piss me off!
Tuesday was not a good day in my corner of California. First of all, I have a sick little boy who wants to cuddle and wipe snot on me. This is not my idea of fun (the cuddling alone would be fine but he insists on doing both, sometimes mixed with coughing and puking). I don't like snot. I don't like coughing. I don't like puke. He seems to be doing all of those things...sometimes all at the same time. So, Little Man is sick. It's probably just a cold, possibly an ear infection. He's been running a fever on and off since Saturday night, he's been coughing (sometimes so hard that he pukes all over - have you ever smelled regurgitated milk? Ew.), he's been eschewing snot from his nose, and he's just crabby and grumpy.
I can't say I blame him. It also means that he's been up several times during the night and spent Sunday night in the bed with us. I didn't get any sleep. I don't think Husband did, either.
So, on Sundry night, I ran to Walgreens to pick up a snot sucker (one of those bulb syringes) and some baby Vick's Vapor Rub (the Walgreens brand, though). When we moved, I managed to lose not one, but two hospital-issued bulb syringes. I'm pissed about that because those are the best ones. I'm sure I could coerce a hospital into giving me another one but let's not bother with that right now.
Anyway, because I went at like 8pm, the parking lot closest to our apartment building was full so I went around to the back lot (these are all gated lots and you have to have an opener to get in). I parked my car, locked it, and went on my merry way.
Because Little Man was sick, we didn't leave the house until Tuesday morning. We had plans to go to Walgreens, the yarn shop (more on that later), a quick stop at the post office, and then to Walmart in San Leandro (rather than Hellmart in Oakland - never going there again). We got to Walgreens, which is only a couple blocks away, and I went around the back of the car to let Little Man out. I went to open my front passenger door (to get my purse) and it wouldn't open. I didn't see any visible damage so I gave a quick call to Husband and he said he'd take a look when he got home. If anything, I would take it to the nearest VW service place/dealership (Oakland or Hayward). So, we went in and did our thing.
When we were done, we headed to the yarn shop so I could pick up a couple of circular needles (specifically two 32" US #8s - Addi Turbo Lace). When I parked the car, I got out and walked around the front of the car.
Do you see where this is going?
Some fucking dickweed asshole hit my legally-parked-in-a-stall car! No wonder I couldn't get my door open! By the way, the photo is of my front passenger side, right by the tire and headlight.
I'm pretty sure I said, "motherfucker cocksucker asshat from hell" a few times with various other inserted insults (including such colorful phrases as "douchecanoe" and "fucktard"). I took photos and called Husband. I also called the Alameda Police to file a report. In the meantime, Husband called our apartment management office to see if they knew anything about it (i.e., are there cameras installed to find the dipshit?).
By the time the officer turned up (almost an hour later - don't even get me started on that!), I had gleaned some things from Husband (who left work early because he knows I can't handle this horseshit). He talked to the apartment manager (or one of his lackeys). Turns out that the cocksucker asshat that hit my car also hit THREE other cars besides mine. This was reported to the manager's office and they collected his name, phone number, which vehicle he hit (translation: make/model and license plate #), and insurance policy number...but not the actual name of the insurance company. It sounded like a police report had been filed but no one bothered to call up either Husband or I to say, "hey, some jackass hit your car last night; you might want to look into that." After learning all that information (which was after I talked to the officer the first time), I talked to the officer again and it turns out that a police report can't be filed because it happened on private property (parking lot of our gated apartment complex) but they can make a note of it in case something else comes up (like if he hit anyone else before getting into the parking lot). Also, the police were never called in the first place. I'm still at a loss as to how a sober person could hit more than one parked car, let alone FOUR. Short answer: there's no way in hell that this guy wasn't on something. But, nothing can be done about that.
We were left with a conundrum after finding out all this information. We had no insurance company information; all we had was the policy number, the guy's name, and his phone number. Well, Husband called him to get the information from him. Turns out the guy doesn't speak English. He kept saying, "Speak English" at Husband but apparently didn't understand the phrases, "You hit my car last night. Who is your insurance company?" Finally, someone called back on this guy's behalf that actually spoke English so Husband went outside to the back lot to meet with them and get the proper insurance information.
Husband called their insurance company and got the claim # and then talked to someone else from their insurance company who basically said that there won't be enough money to fix my car. Um.....I'm sorry but what the ever-loving-fuck?! Apparently, of the four vehicles hit, we were the last one to call...and because we were the last one, everyone else gets first dibs on the insurance claim, probably leaving us with squat. Then they wanted our insurance information. Um.....fuck that noise! No way in Hell during an icestorm are they getting that information. He hit my legally parked car (and three others) and that asshat should pay for the damages to my car (as well as everyone else's).
I know, I know...that's how insurance companies work. But it's bullshit. I'm being punished because we were the last to call? Huh?
Anyway, Husband wound up calling our insurance company and told them what was going on. We're probably going to have to pay our deductible (which we intend to go after the asshat and/or his insurance company for) and then they'll cover the rest if his insurance company doesn't pony up the dough. Since it can be proven that I was in no way at fault (my car was legally parked and I wasn't even there), my insurance shouldn't go up and it shouldn't be held against me.
To say that I'm upset is an understatement. Fucking LIVID would be a better way to describe it. I took a quick drive through the back lot again and I think I figured out which car hit me and at least one of the other cars that was hit (and I'll tell you, if the other car - if it was one of the cars that was hit - is the basis for why my car won't be covered, I can see why - almost the entire back end was ripped off and the car was turned sideways across three parking stalls).
But, back to why I had to buy some needles. I think I've lost my sanity. I signed up to do a test knit for someone and I thought I had appropriate needles...and I sort of do but not long enough. It's a pinwheel type blanket (though I'm doing a much smaller version) which starts from the center and goes outward. So, I could start it on DPNs but I think I'm going to start it on two circulars and see how it goes.
So, that's why I needed needles.
For proper WIP Wednesday love, visit Tami (I shant be adding the link to this post on her post because, well, it's a bit colorful and that's not for everyone).