Rental Car

Recently, the Mom of No's beloved personal vehicle suffered an injury: it had an unplanned encounter with an inanimate object, and needed some TLC which only a collision repair center could provide.  While my beloved is undergoing its repairs, the insurance company provided me with a rental car.

Not much in the world makes me more nervous and paranoid than driving a rental car.

Because I was out of town, the Dad of No went to pick up the car. When he picked me up at the airport, I asked him, did you pick up my rental car? What kind of car is it? Is it the convertible I asked for?  He shook his head. It's a tiny sedan, he replied.  You might not like it that much. It was all they had on the lot.

The next morning, the Son of Never Stops Eating and I decided to go eat breakfast.  I got in the car and looked at the back seat. 

I think you better sit in the front seat, I told him.  I don't think your hamster would fit back there, let alone a six foot tall thirteen year old boy.  The Son of Never Stopped Eating got into the front seat and pushed it as far back at it would go.  His knees were still sticking up.  Tall people were clearly not the target market for this particular car.

Mom, I don't like this car very much, he said.  You need to get your car back. We both sighed, thinking of my beloved sitting at the collision repair shop, in pieces. 

When I'm driving a rental car, I see every other vehicle on the road as a potential disaster waiting to happen. I park as far away as I can from every other car in the parking lot.  I live in fear of hail storms, falling trees, and sinkholes opening up below my driveway and swallowing the rental car whole.  Why do I fear these things?  Because I can only imagine the paperwork involved if I had to call the rental car company and tell them, hey, you know that tiny little car you gave me?  It just got swallowed up by a sinkhole.

When I am in possession of a rental car, I have nightmares that involve horrible things involuntarily happening to the rental car, like someone stealing it out of my driveway, or the car being run over by a huge 18 wheeler hauling heavy equipment. In these dreams I am always completely unharmed but the car is a total loss.  As part of these nightmares, I call the car rental place to let them know their car is, well, messed up a bit.

Did you purchase the optional comprehensive damage and loss waiver that you were offered when you picked the car up? the agent asks me. 

Well, no, I tell them. My insurance company said I didn't need it.

(Diabolical laughter ensues from rental car representative)

Then I wake up in a cold sweat, and run out the back door to make sure that the car is in the garage, unharmed, and that no sinkholes are forming in my driveway.

Later in the day, the Son of Never Stops Eating and I decided that we needed to go to Target. We drove the rental car. Our trip there was uneventful, although he asked me why we were parking far away from any other cars.  As we walked back to the car after shopping, I spied what I thought was an injury to the car;  it looked like something had happened to the paint.  The car had a big brown spot on the door that had not been there before.

Oh, s**t! What the f*** happened to the car? I said, standing in the parking lot in the rain, holding my Christmas wrapping paper and a container of chocolate ice cream.  Visions of endless paperwork were dancing around in my overactive imagination.

Mom, my son said, I think that might be a wet leaf.  It was. So much for my powers of observation.

We drove home, utilizing every defensive driving skill I have ever learned.  I think the people behind me might have been a bit annoyed, since I waited for the green arrow to make all my left turns even thought I could have turned on the green light.  I was in a rental car; I was not taking any chances.

Hopefully my beloved will be restored to me soon.