9/4/10 Stormy Friday

I left over 1% on the table by selling yesterday. That's alright.

Our appraisal was completed today. There's a story behind the late timing, which I'll share once the loan is approved.

One unexpected incident almost ruined my day, but right now it appears to be only a minor nuisance. I drove down to the courthouse at 850 Bryant to pay off a 'fix-it' ticket. That area of SF is not known for easy parking, but I only had to circle around once to find a spot on 6th Street. I backed into it. I got out, nodded to the guy sitting in the car behind mine, and started to walk off. He exited his vehicle and called out to me. Claimed that I bumped into his car. I couldn't recall hitting anything, but we walked over to examine the 'damage' anyway. A ----ing hairline crack on the plastic molding that holds his license plate? WTF...

'You ruined my repair job.'
'Repair job?' I was looking at a piece of plastic that protrudes about an inch from the front of the car, into which a license plate is nestled (what idiot came up with that design?)- the top appeared to have been plastered with something that resembles hardened Silly Putty, and spray painted red (the color of the car). And there was a crack in it.
'Yeah, I just had that repaired.'
'Really?' is what I said (but inside I was thinking 'You actually paid someone for that ---- job?'). 'Look, I don't remember hitting anything when I backed in.'
'You did. I was sitting in the car.'
'There was no impact.'
'You didn't hit me, but you pushed against the car, and it's messed up the repair job. What do you want to do about it?'
'Well, I don't think I hit you, and there's nothing I can do.' I glanced up the block at Bryant, 'There's a line of patrol cars up there, we can probably find an officer if you want to file a report.'
'No, let's have the insurance companies handle it.'
Well, I wasn't about to exchange information of any kind with this guy. 'Look, I gotta go.'
'OK, I'm writing down your license number.'

I left, but for the next 15 minutes I had visions of the guy (a) ramming my car to create the damage he needed for a real claim, (b) keying my car, (c) kicking in my mirror, or (d) slashing a tire. Not worth it, man. I should have driven off and found another spot.

I returned 15 minutes later, and the guy was still there, sitting with a cell phone in one hand and an Allstate pocket card in the other.

'I'm back.'
'Well, I'm calling in a claim.'
'Come on, man.'
'My repair job is fucked up, man.'
'Let's be honest- if that's a repair job, you need to take it back to the shop, because that's one fucked-up repair job.'

As I drove off, another driver was waiting for my parking spot, and I had to wonder what he was in for. Damn- I should have circled back to catch the action.

I called my insurance company after returning home, and asked about my 'responsibilities' in a situation like this. They were professional about it- they will need to open a claim and investigate (I got the other guy's plate number).

Needless to say, I think the guy makes a living sitting in a car worth maybe $500 waiting for drivers to back into his 'repair job.'

In case you're wondering, I was stopped two weeks ago by the SFPD for a dead bulb in one of my headlamps. I had a choice of (a) mailing in proof of correction, (b) walking in with proof of correction, or (c) paying $180 to clear the citation. Obviously, (c) wasn't an option. (a) sounded like the way to go, but the Burlingame officer who signed off my citation made a comment about the (un)reliability of the US Postal Service, so I opted for (b).

Hope y'all had a better day than I did. I really have nothing to complain about- it was a pretty good week.