Happy Fucking New Years!

Summary: News years eve is nothing but an excuse for assholes to get drunk and act like even bigger assholes. Plus it doesn’t even makes sense to start the new year on January 1st anyway. It’s completely arbitrary. So there!

Happy New Year mother fuckers!

Happy New Year mother fucker!

It’s 9:30 am on January 1st, 2010. New years day. The phone rings.

“Hello”

“Yes, this is the Sheriff’s department. Do you own a Toyota Corolla station wagon?”

“Oh no…it hasn’t been towed has it?”

“No, but did it always have a smashed out back window and a smashed front turn signal?”

“Awww man, you’re kidding me!”

“Nope. We have an officer there right now. He was just passing through doing a routine patrol and noticed your car’s window.”

“I’ll be there in one minute. Thanks.”

I walk over to the Safeway parking lot and there’s a store employee cleaning up the glass with a broom and a Sheriff deputy filling out a card.

“Hello, I’m the owner of the car.”

“Can you look inside and see if anything has been stolen?”

“Nope. All my junk is still there and… holy cow!..they made a 2 inch tear in the metal of the hatch as well. Man, this is so pointless.”

“What about this dent?”

“Nah, that one came with the car. This other dent and this group of scratches is mine. The broken window and the split metal is brand new though.”

We walk around to the front.

“How about this?”

No, I made that one myself. These two other ones as well. The scraped up bumper with the white paint on it mine too. The broken right blinker is new through. And the way the grill kind of pops out and the hood is crooked…that’s new too. It’s like they jumped on it or something.”

Nothing like analyzing your car with a Sheriff to remind yourself of just how much you’ve fucked up your car all on your own. Still, these punks took it to a whole new level. And it’s not their car anyway. Only I’m allowed to trash it and I have a very specific level of abuse that is acceptable. Nicks and scrapes? Fine. Rust? That’s ok too. Smashed out window? Not ok.

Campagne? Got it. Party hats? Checkou bet. Can't celebrate t new years eve without one!

Champagne? Got it. Party hats? Check. Shovel? You bet. Can't celebrate new years eve without one!

While looking at the front I notice what looks like a shovel handle sticking out from under the car right were the light was smashed out. I pick it up and it’s clear this is what they used to go medieval on my car. There’s few new scrapes up and down the shaft and right were you’d expect a shovel head to be is a fresh break. This explains the split steel on my hatch. You’d have to use a shovel, hoe or pick to do that. So that’s what happened. Someone fucked up my car with a gardening tool until the head snapped off. Then they finished the job with just the handle. Then they took the head with them and just left the shaft.

I start to remove the items from the back and shake off the glass before storing them on the car’s roof. This is my surf car so there’s five or six damp towels and a Rubbermaid bucket with a couple of pairs of booties, some earplugs, a hoodie, wax, and a couple of empty gallon juice jugs that I fill with hot water for rinsing off afterwords. All covered with tiny shards of window glass. Fortunately my suit was drying at home so I don’t have to stress about cutting up my body next time I suit up.

They hit the window so hard that even the dashboard has little pieces of glass on it. Same with my daughter’s car seat and just about every square inch of the car.

Assholes.

I figure I might as well just deal with this now. So I put all the items in the front seat and drive over to the self-serve car washing place on Soquel Dr. You kind of forget how much pollution a car makes until you have no back window. The slip stream sucks all of the exhaust fumes straight into the car.

I pull up to one of the industrial vacuum cleaning stations, pop the hatch and go to put my quarters in. Only it doesn’t take quarters. It takes tokens. These can be purchased from the machine in front. The trouble is I don’t have any bills. Just four quarters. I used my last dollar seeing Avatar in 3-D the night before. The machine doesn’t accept debit.

I walk around asking people if they can change my four quarters for a dollar.

“Sorry, I used all my bills getting token myself.”

Next person.

“I wish I could help. The machine has my last dollar.”

Third person.

“Sure, I think I got a dollar.”

Yeah! So I put the dollar in and two tokens come out. Huh? Well, I guess each token must represent 50 cents. I’m only guessing because the change machine just says “get tokens here”. No exchange rate.

capiton here

Dude, isn't it obvious? It used to to take two tokens but now it takes three. What an awesome and most helpful sign!

I go back to the vacuum machine and put them in. Nothing happens. I look all around for a button. No button. I look closely at the instructions. It clearly says 2 Tokens. But wait, what’s this? The “2″ is faded and next to the number two someone wrote with a Sharpie the number “3″ with a helpful arrow pointing to the two. Trouble is, it’s even more faded than the original “2″.

Fucker.

Not the person who wrote the hint. I mean the business owner who creates a token dependency and a mysterious exchange rate and then doesn’t even take the time to clearly state how many tokens the machine takes. If there was even one competitor close buy this place would out of business in month. If I was rich, I’d do it myself just out of spite.

So I’m sitting there, one token short of getting the vacuum to start.

I see a guy coming back from the token machine. He’s headed right to his truck in the next stall.

“Excuse me. Someone smashed out my windshield last night and I’m trying to vacuum the glass out. The trouble is I’m one token short to get the machine to start, it already has two in there, and I’m completely out of bills for the token machine.”

“Sure, no problem”

I put in the token and it starts up. Man this vacuum is strong. Glass, sand, gum wrappers suck right up. I use the tip to grind away at the remaining glass along the edges of the window. I use a combination of full force stabs to break it up, then grind along the edge to suck up the shards. Works amazingly well.

Then it stops. I was so close too.

I just stand there staring at the car. Silent. Expressionless. Like a day dreamer at a really boring lecture. I guess I’m still processing the fact that I’m spending my morning cleaning up the mess from a smashed out windshield.

The guy who donated the token walks over.

“Did it work?”

“Close. It ran out before I could finish.”

“Here you go, happy new year.”

He hands me two bucks.

“Thanks! You have no idea helpful this is right now.”

It’s just enough to get one more shot because of the mismatched exchange rate. Two dollars equals four tokens. The vacuum takes three. The exchange rate and the pricing model intentionally leave an abandoned token. A token that can only be used at this self-serve car wash station and will mostly likely never be used. What a scam.

By the time I get home the tide is almost low enough to surf. So I throw my suit in the front to keep it away from any leftover glass and head to the Point.

I suit up the normal way but when it comes time to lock the car and stash my key’s in the “secret spot” I just stand there for minute. It feels really weird to lock up a car when the back window is completely gone. My car looks naked and vulnerable, if that’s even possible. I stash my clothes (which carry my wallet and cell phone) a bit better, but what more can I really do. I lock  it anyway and head out to the waves.

My totally excellent $4 replacement window.

My totally excellent $4 replacement window.

After surfing I head over to Orchard to get some plastic. Once again, I have no back window so I park in front of the store entrance, throw the board into the car, and hope for the best. Instead of the usual opaque plastic they use on construction and home improvement sites, I opt for the thicker and transparent style. At $2 per linear foot from a four-foot wide roll it costs me a whole$4 to seal up the window. Sweet.

By the time 4pm rolls around, I’m done. My daughter wants to play but I just can’t do it. I just want to read or stare off into space. I don’t want any human interaction. Even thought the waves were decent it’s hard to get pumped when the day starts with your car being trashed by some hooligans and ends with sealing the back window with a sheet of plastic and some packing tape. The dozens of little cuts on my fingers from clearing glass and the thought of having to kick down $500 to cover the deductible certainly doesn’t help either.

Happy fucking new year!

File Under: New Years Eve Sucks – New Years Day Disasters – Crime on New Years Eve – New Years Eve Vandalism


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