But this is not my story.
My baby sister is getting married in a few months and I went to the party store to get the decorations for her lingerie shower and bachelorette outing. Ohhh la laa. I walk out of the store in a good mood. oooo-eeee, this is gonna be good.
Holy. What the eff? MY CAR!?!?! There is a huge scratch along the passenger side. Seems a red car danced with my car and then took off. Asshole. Someone is gonna hear about this!
Hello!? non-emergency police? yes, someone hit my car and took off. I give the lady on the other end of the phone the gory details of how my newly painted car is in ruins. She assures me that someone is being dispatched as we speak directly to the scene of the crime. Thank you very much I say completely satisfied with myself. This situation is getting handled. I am, however
then .... ohhh shit. wait! um, ma'am.... ummm. wrong car. sorry. eeekkk!
I can feel the roll of her eyes as she hangs up on me. I look at the ground, pretend she is still there and say thank you, goodbye. There are a few people watching my tantrum and at this point I am not sure what to do. So, I gesture at the scratched door and mumble, "that sucks". Then, I pull my baseball cap down over my eyes and haul my dumb ass across the parking lot to MY still beautiful, newly painted, non-scratched car.
Guess I wont be going back to that side of town again... EVER.
~SOS~
Oh my god that was so funny! I mean I feel bad for you...kinda...but really really funny.
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