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That’s One Way To Weed Bad Friends Out Of Your Life

, , , , , , , , , | Legal | September 16, 2022

I let my former friend use my car while I house-sat for my neighbor. My former friend needed it for work as his car had died.

Nine days later, he came back in a [Rideshare] and gave me $500.

Me: “Where’s my car?”

Friend: “I’mma be honest with you. I sold it for weed and alcohol. No hard feelings since I gave you a cut of the money, right?”

My car at the time was a 1965 Chevy Impala SS that my grandpa had given me. Grandpa passed due to lung cancer, so that car was massively sentimental even beyond the cash value.

Not that it would have been any better, but if he had used the money to fix his own car, it would have at least made some sort of twisted sense. But no. His own car was still unrepaired, and the money he got for stealing and selling my car had gone into recreational drugs. This stupidity and the audacity of this dude just blew my mind.

Me: “Nope. Major hard feelings. The car is mine, not yours, and you were borrowing it! You had no right to sell it.”

I called the cops then and there. All the while, he was whining, “Come on, man!” and, “What’s the big deal? It’s a car!” and, “But I gave you a cut of the money I made!” and, “Dude, are you seriously this mad over a little weed money?”

The cops came down hard on my former friend. It took a while to make him stop sniveling, “Come on, man!” over and over, but the cops eventually got it through his thick skull that he could be convicted of felony grand theft auto and that those words weren’t just the name of a video game but an actual legal term with major consequences.

I won’t detail the long, miserable process of getting my car back, but my car was thankfully, THANKFULLY none the worse for wear when I got it back. My former friend still got jail time, and I cut him from my life so hard that I’m pretty sure the chopping sound could be heard around the world.

Instant Car-ma

, , , , , , , | Legal | September 14, 2022

I was driving down a road without much traffic, just humming along at the speed limit, when suddenly, a car zipped by and pulled in front of me, cutting me off. I avoided a crash, but there was definitely less than a car length of space between the two of us.

Immediately, a police car appeared from some ways back, somehow managed to squeeze into the space between my car and the one that cut me off, and pulled that driver over.

I was grinning for the rest of my commute.

Trouble Between Junctions And Insurance Barely Functions

, , , , , | Working | September 14, 2022

I was driving along a motorway and noticed there were some kids on the overhead bridge ahead of me, kind of leaning over the rails. As I went under the bridge, something tiny hit my windscreen. It scared me half to death because the impact was really loud, and when I looked in my mirror I could see the kids running to look over the rail on this side.

I pulled over at the next emergency phone and reported what had happened and that I thought the kids had thrown a stone. The operator said they could see the kids on the cameras and would notify the police. Because the only damage was a small crack, I carried on my journey.

The fun started when I put in an insurance claim for the repair; because of the size and location of the crack, I needed a new windscreen. I got a call from the insurance agent.

Agent: “You’ve missed a few details from your claim form. I need the exact location of the bridge.”

Me: “I already stated in the claim that it was between [Junction #1] and [Junction #2].”

Agent: “There are several bridges on that stretch of road. Which bridge was it?”

Me: “I have absolutely no idea! I stopped at the next phone, but I drove under a couple more bridges, so honestly, it could be any of them. All I can say is that it was a narrow bridge, so probably a minor road, definitely between those junctions.”

Agent: “Okay. Then I will need the details of the other vehicle.”

Me: “What other vehicle?”

Agent: “You claimed a stone was thrown from the bridge at your windscreen. Did you get the registration of the vehicle it was thrown from?”

Me: “It wasn’t thrown from a vehicle. I said it was thrown from a bridge by some kids.”

Agent: “Right. Could I have their names, please?”

Me: “I have no idea. They ran away and I was driving. They were long gone by the time I called for help.”

Agent: “So, you called the police?”

Me: “I used the emergency phone. The operator said they would report it to the police.”

Agent: “I need a copy of the police report. Could you send it?”

Me: “I don’t have one. I have no idea how to get it or even whether an official report was made. I just spoke to the operator.”

Agent: “Without the names of the other people involved, I won’t be able to process this claim.”

Me: “Seriously? I have zero idea how to even start looking for a police report!”

Agent: “Then I will be unable to process this claim.”

Me: “Can I change the claim?”

Agent: “Yes. What did you need to change?”

Me: “The description of what happened.”

Agent: “Okay, what is the new description?”

Me: “As I was driving under the first bridge between [Junction #1] and [Junction #2], a stone fell from the bridge and hit my windscreen.”

Agent: “What about the people who threw it?”

Me: “What people? It fell.”

Agent: “…”

Me: “So, can you process my claim?”

Agent: “Uh… yes. Yes, I can process this claim.”

I got my windscreen replaced and the claim was paid. I have no idea if that agent was right or wrong, but that’s the first time I ever knowingly falsified an insurance claim.

Pump The Brakes And Turn On The Light!

, , , , , | Right | September 14, 2022

As I was driving around on a Friday, my truck repeatedly warned me that my windshield washer fluid was low, so I decided I would top up the fluid as soon as I got home.

Now, the windshield washer fluid reservoir in this thing is huge. In the six years of driving this truck, I think we’ve had to add fluid about six times. So, cue me looking in the manual for how to open the flipping hood (the release is hidden on the bottom of the steering column), opening the hood, digging out the jug of washer fluid, and getting ready to add it — just as the garage opener light times out, making the garage a lot darker.

Undaunted, I spotted something that looked like a windshield washer reservoir, took off the cap, and poured the fluid in… only to have it splash over my hands. It was already full! Cue WTF moment, turning on the garage light switch, and looking at the truck manual once more.

I had just added windshield washer fluid to the brake fluid reservoir! Yikes!

Long story short, the auto club towed my truck to the garage, where the mechanic flushed the brake fluid completely. Fortunately, everyone had time in their schedules, so I was back on the road by the end of the day (at a price, of course).

Lesson learned. Don’t do a task like this when: 1) you haven’t done it in over a year; 2) you’re tired; 3) you’re hurrying (when there is no good reason to hurry); 4) you can’t actually see properly.

I was glad that I had a regular, trusted mechanic who I could call to check just how bad my mistake was. Otherwise, I might have risked driving the 20 km (at highway speeds) to the garage, which would have pumped the washer fluid through the brake lines.

The Only Thing Better Than A Husky Is Two Huskies

, , , , , | Related | September 12, 2022

My wife and I have had our husky puppy for almost two years. He’s a handful, loves to chew, and is an escape artist. When I say he loves to chew, that might be a bit of an understatement. He’s chewed up spindles on the stairwell, drywall by a couple of windows, three different couches, shoes, TV remotes, cell phones, and the list goes on.

He gets long walks and we play with him constantly, but he still just wants to chew. Finally, we can’t take it anymore. One of the suggestions we’ve heard is to get him a playmate. My wife spends a few days going over pet adoption websites, and she finds a shepherd/husky mix (at least that’s what the site classified the breed as), but she looks like any other husky that I’ve seen except for her saddle, which does look more like the colors of a German shepherd.

The adoption place is a five-hour drive from our house in a neighboring state. We leave early in the morning and arrive at the place around noon, and that’s when we get to meet the dog at the adoption place.

The whole while, we’ve had our husky in the car; we thought it would be best to let them meet and not just bring home a strange dog. My wife’s car is a Rav4, so the back seats fold down to make a decent-sized area in the back for our husky. He enjoys the ride and getting to stop a couple of times to stretch his legs and enjoy new smells.

My wife goes in to get the dog, and I stay out in the small field area near the parking lot to let my husky run around and take in the smells. About five minutes later, my wife comes out with the dog in question, and there is an instant bond between the new dog and my husky. They run and jump and play immediately. We have a new dog that we are officially bringing home.

The car ride home is amusing. The two dogs in the back wrestle non-stop for several hours, and then they take about a ten-minute break. My wife and I think they have maybe, finally, worn themselves out. Nope, it is just a short break. The second wind comes in full force and they continue to wrestle for the next three hours until we get home.

The fun part is, as we’re driving down the highway and cars are passing, we get to see the look on the other people’s faces as they watch our car rocking back and forth as we drive down the highway with two huskies that are wrestling and tumbling around.

The change with our husky has been immediately noticed now that he has a playmate. He has stopped chewing on everything and stopped escaping from his kennel. These two huskies are best of friends until the end.