Goochie's Back

Our Toyota Corolla involved in the accident a few weeks ago is now back home. Yea! However, he's missing his nameplate. For some reason, the body shop told me he was ready even though he doesn't have "Toyota Corolla" on his back. So, I have to take it back Friday to have it taken care of. Shouldn't they notice stuff like that?

Anyway, the frustration continued. I drove away and realized the airbag light was on. The airbags didn't deploy in the accident, but they needed to be reset. The body shop couldn't figure out how to do it and told me to go to a dealer who would take care of it for free.

So, I drove the long way back to the Toyota dealer, which I kind of knew where it was. After searching around to no avail, I ended up calling 411, which I hate to do. Anyway, I finally located the dealer. I told them the situation. They said that would be $99. Um, heck no. So, I called the body shop and they decided to pay for it. It's lunchtime and it's going to take 1.5 hours to fix the car. So, I walk to the nearest deli and read a magazine. Thank God they took debit cards!

As you can tell, driving in Chicago (actually, life in Chicago) is incredibly frustrating. People make their own lanes, push their way in, play chicken, and cut you off. I had to honk at two people today alone. I just don't understand it. It's so rude. Why can't people wait their own turn? So, I honk and yell and then get mad at myself for doing so. I know I'm all jumpy because of the accident, too, which happened because a guy wasn't paying attention. Back where I'm from, if somebody does a stupid driver mistake there's typically a reason--not from here, etc. But here people are intentionally rude. They intentionally play chicken with you and speed up to cut you off so you have to slam on your brakes. I know God calls me to give grace to others, but this is really showing me that God has so much more to work in my heart in this area.

On a random side note, I originally thought about blogging today to complain why Chicago drivers typically have 1 or both of their rear taillights out of service. But then I thought that sounds like something a crochety old man would complain about. Well, in my drive to the autobody shop (which, ironically, took me right past the scene of the accident), I had 3 different vehicles in front of me with taillight malfunctions. So, Chicago, check your taillights!