Here’s a little advice for you: check your vehicle’s height before entering a multi-storey carpark – you know, in case it’s grown… You might end up peeling your new roofracks off like the top of a sardine can. For example.
Not that anything like that has ever happened to me, mind. Oh, no. It’s not like I drove The Star Wagon into a car park that I’d been in a hundred times before and totally forgot about the roof racks my husband had recently installed and subsequently found myself in a predicament a little like Winnie-The-Pooh’s when he got stuck in Rabbit’s hole. (Uh, that’d be the entrance to Rabbit’s house, people. Sheesh!). And it’s not like the sound of metal against concrete is imprinted forever more on my brain or that I blushed so deeply that four days later I’d still be glowing a deep shade of Amaranth. No. None of that.
Anyway, the point is that if something like that did happen to me, I’d really hope that there was a really nice man working in the little booth at the exit boom gate to help me get ‘unstuck’. And I’d hope this man wouldn’t get even a tiny bit flustered by the growing queue of cars in both directions and that he would remain so cheerful and friendly that I’d feel compelled to go and buy him a box of chocolates to express some small part of my gratitude. Such a man – were he to exist, of course – would forever have a special place in my heart.
I’d also like to think that had these events happened on my watch, that I would have remained calm and collected and not, say, started howling like a baby and alarm my three year old so much that he, too, would burst into tears, saying “Mummy! I’s crying ’cause you broked the car!!”. And it goes without saying that if I were to ring my husband under such circumstances that I would like to have had (but probably wouldn’t have had) the forethought to stress that “We’re okay. Nobody’s hurt!” before incoherently sobbing “Aruunnnnghhhhhhhh sorrrrrrrrrrrrry! The caarrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!” for two minutes so that I could’ve saved my husband from almost having a Fart Plus Occasion in his pants.
Anyway, if – and only if – any of this had happened to me, I’d also like to hope that the car would mostly be okay and that any damage incurred would look kind of cool, like it had taken some serious heat in a bank-heist-gone-wrong. A bit like this, for example:
Gangstaaaaaaaa!
And I’d certainly hope that my husband would later admit that he would’ve forgotten about the roof racks and done exactly the same thing, but then he’d probably immediately request I didn’t include that in any blog post that I might write about the incident because he wouldn’t like people to think he was a complete idiot.
Luckily none of the above happened to me or my car. Because do you honestly think I’d put it in a blog post if it did?
It happens to the best of us, lucky for us we are in the habit of taken tow bars, roof racks off when not using them.
As you said at least no one was hurt only the car you can replace cars & car parts but you cant replace a person
(((( Hugs ))))
I think you’ll find I said nothing – at least nothing admissible in court.
But yes, *if* that had all been true, it was a good result.
I think it was your car’s way of saying ‘roof racks are not cool’.
My car (which incidentally was not involved in this incident) is not cool anyway. It’s a people mover. I don’t ‘zip’ or even ‘burn’ around town. I merely ‘tootle’ like some kind of goddamn scoutmaster.
lol, i think that’s an experience you have to have once in your car driving life. now you know the sound, the shame, the complications. you’re safe now, believe me. no convertible for you. cool you had such a nice man to assist you tho.. 🙂
Hypothetically speaking, I agree.
Stupid car park.
Stupid car park, indeed. Whoever built it was obviously into playing car limbo…
I would have been the same blubbering mess as this hypothetical woman. Total, bawling, stuttering mess, as I would’ve forgotten too.
But would you have then admitted to it on twitter, facebook and in a blog post??
Snort! Although, I do believe you should have called this hypothetical post “A new high”… x
I did toy with that title but at the end of the day, the car park featured in this cautionary tale is woefully short-arse. Much like the story’s hypothetical protagonist.
I have to agree with KC, your car was simply rebelling against the indignity of having to wear roof racks (bit like having to wear those braces with the head brace). Also, can you write a full post on fart plus occasions – your husband and mine may have been separated at birth.
I hasten to add that Fart Plus Occasions happen to be *my* personal superpower, not my husband’s. He would be mortified that I tried to paint him with my Fart Plus brush, so to speak. Even in just a hypothetical sense.
A ‘Fart Plus Occasion’?! Never heard such an expression before, but it needs no explaining!
Such is the beauty of the English language. So much can be said with so few words.
Fart Plus.
Thanks.
That’s mine.
More gifts from me to you, Carol. I just give and give and give.
Stoopid car parks. I’m always scared of hitting the sides of my car on those stoopid tiny little corners.
The worst thing is that nothing I ever did in driving lessons or my driving test actually prepared me for those dungeons.
Don’t worry – reverse camera *and* alarm weren’t enough to stop me reversing into a great big stobie pole in our new car a few weeks ago in a deserted dead-end street. My only defence is that we were having a “3 kids in the back of the car after school on a Friday” moment…….unlike DH when he scraped the side of his tiny little car driving out of the garage recently.
Your only defence? It’s the greatest defence of all. I make all my children zip their mouths and sit on their hands while I back out of our driveway, merge on a busy freeway or drive through the CDB.
The river of tears I witnessed from mother’s single vehicle brain burps hasn’t done me any harm. My mum would have RACQ charge her car battery every time she used her light; every time it rained or she went into an undercover car park. On one unfortunate occasion she neglected to slam the bonnet down hard enough after having the battery charged and as we drove over a hill the entire bonnet blew up and smashed into the windscreen! On yet another occassion she/I didn’t close the back passenger door and she backed out of the garage, wrapping the back door around into the front door. She was an extremely conscientious driver but just about turned that old silver Camry inside-out!
I know I shouldn’t laugh but the bonnet flying up and hitting the window screen is pure comedy gold!
Glad to hear that you weren’t scarred for life.
I also support the roof racks are uncool line. The car just couldn’t help but try to rid itself of the embarassment.
…. except that it’s a PEOPLE MOVER (see previous responses). Even Cliff Richard driving a Reliant Robin is way cooler than me in my People Mover.
Sorry, I am still laughing and thanking my lucky stars that it was the NDM and not me! Happily for us, our car, uncool racks and all, fits into that said carpack. Just can’t pump the tyres up too much!
Mind you after the Fart plus moment I may never be able to look your husband in the eye again!
Thanks to Madam Zap for the stobie pole mention – I do miss dear old Adelaide!
It was an *almost* Fart Plus Occasion. A metaphorical cry out for his Best Brown Underpants.
As for a stobie pole, I decided to overlook such a parochial reference. For some reason all I could do was imagine Madame Zap had run into a giant cigar and I know that can’t be right.
Gee, that would be unfortunate. So glad that didn’t happen to you. And extra glad it didn’t happen to me. I’m now rethinking the whole “roof racks on our new car could be handy” idea.
Roof racks generally *are* a good idea. It’s like a house extension for your car, except you’re not allowed to put children up there. Not even pets when you’re taking them to the vet, although arguably (in the case of Genghis Cat) it would be safer for *everyone* if he were to ride a-top of the car.
Wow! What a coincidence!
Because 6 days after Hubby handed me the keys to our new truck, I didn’t drive it right into our garage wall causing $600 worth of damage to the side of it. This definitely did not happen, because I checked the girth of the massive SUV daily. These things can settle, get a bit wider with no notice, you know.
It’s got something to do with the movement of the earth’s tectonic plates.
I’m so glad that something like that didn’t happen to you, either. It makes me feel less alone.
I can’t even use the line ‘nice rack’ to help you out here.
Although I actually *do* have a nice rack. Nothing hypothetical about that!
We once very nearly drove into a car park, on an excursion from the camping area we were staying at, forgetting that we had the luggage pod on top of the van. We’d both mentally checked the clearance, nodded to ourselves “yep, we fit” and hubby started up the ramp when at the very last moment I yelled “POD!” It would have been quite a challenge to get all the camping gear home again without the storage space of the pod.
I now drive a slightly taller vehicle than that van and am doubly paranoid about car parks.
Lucky escape you had there. It’s the kind of thing that someone would take a photograph of and put on a ‘Shit happens’ postcard.
When Mr Woog realised that the Roof Boot stood in my way of entering ChatsWoog Chase carpark, he left it on for a month!
Now that you mention it, my husband never mentioned *why* he’d put the roof racks on in the first place…
Phew! I’d hate to think that that kind of silliness would happen to anyone I know.
‘Cos then, of course, I wouldn’t feel compelled to confess about the time I was reversing the car up a steep driveway past an old house on stumps, complete with metal sheeting for capping at the top of said stumps, which managed to imbed itself in the side of the car for oh, about a metre and a half before I stopped.
No, I wouldn’t say anything about that. Mind you, after ex-husband had finished ranting about my ‘stupidity’ (I mentioned he was ‘ex’, didn’t I?), I got to feel all saintly a few months later when he wrote his car off – due to stupidity, I might add – and I managed not to rip his head off. I might have to mention that.
Reversing up a steep driveway? That sounds like some kind of stunt driving, there. Whereas entering a shopping centre parking lot? My three year old would have done a better job of it. For one thing, he wouldn’t have been able to get the car out of ‘park’ so he wouldn’t have gone forward at all.
That is some ultra low-ceiling carpark. Perhaps you could let us all know which car park it is so we can avoid the same fate that *didn’t* happen to you. After all, a people mover with roof racks is not exactly a high-clearance vehicle. And you didn’t even have anything on the roof rack. Did they have any signage warning about the unreasonably low ceiling? Maybe you could sue for damages. I know a good lawyer.
If there was a sign, I – or someone who looked a lot like me – probably whacked it off with my roof racks.
Omg, hun…that truely sucks. I am so sorry. I would have done the exact same thing – I’ve done similar things, in fact, many a time myself. ((hugs))
You mean it might happen again???
As this is all hypothetical and didn’t happen , there’s no need for me to say nice soothing things. You’re obviously doing a vicarious post for some other unfortunate. You’re a rare one, NDM. All heart and soul…… 🙂
… but not much brain, right?
Not true, NDM. All your brain power goes into making this blog so entertaining. I’m sure ripping your rack off, would just not have occurred to you. That’s the sort ogf thing that only happens to inferior mum bloggers… 😉
I can quite honestly say that if my people mover *didn’t* already have roof racks that fit under all relevant car park entrances, and that if my handyman hubby *did* decide to install some himself, then I would almost certainly definitely have done the same thing.
Glad to hear there’s at least one other mother out there tootling about in a people mover with roof racks. We’re the New Cool, you know? And by ‘new’, I mean ‘not’.
I am glad that this *didn’t* happen to you… the worst thing that happened to my old car was it got attacked by a cow cause it was silver and shiny and she could see her reflection in it… that was a good one to explain to the panel beaters!
Your car got attacked by a cow? Were you on some kind of farm safari with it? That’s some story.
What do you say when your husband says “Some bastard has keyed my car all down the side?”
EITHER
“That would be the bush at the back of the netball courts where I parked because I was late to get d2 to a match which she would inevitably lose but being late would make it worse…”
OR
“Gosh. What a terrible thing darling.”
(I’m stupid but honest, so said the first…)
I think we all know what I’d say. It’d be something like “Aarrrunnnggghthhhhh bush!”
hah that’s NOTHING compared to real life story of a male friend of a friend who he himself put his racing bike worth many thousands on top of car only to back out of driveway decide he had forgotten something and to drive right back UNDER the carport.
Oops goodbye completely written off bike!
Serves him right for spending so much on a bicycle. I once had a bike that I took to Rottnest Island in Western Australia and twice it got picked up by the garbos thinking it was hard rubbish. Twice! I miss that bike.
he he I agree they are wankers in lycra!!
Ha. Not at you, with you. At the silly what if. As IF anyone would do that. I bet the noise was horrendous too. That whole time between collision and getting out to check out the damage is excrutiating. Hypothetically of course, for the person who did this, it would have been.
You’re totally right about that gap. I thought I’d peeled the roof off… when I was trying to imagine what it might have felt like for the person in question, that is.
I showed this post to my husband so he appreciates me more. Thanks.
Yes, people tend to feel much better about themselves after reading my posts, simply because they are not me.
Since everyone is confessing here, I’ll share a story of my own – oh, I mean, someone else I *might* know.
A few months after this *person* arrived in Oz, not used to driving on the left, she and her hubby bought a brand Jeep Cherokee. He flew off to Tokyo and she got on with the business of learning to drive on the bass-ackwards side of the road.
One bright and lovely morning, she was driving to work and, like the other drivers in front of her, moved to the left lane to go around a stopped car turning right. What she *didn’t* realise is that the curb at that intersection was narrowing. She promptly bumped/slammed into the curb and, feeling something wonky, pulled over.
Amazingly, she not only scraped the wheel, she managed to push the entire bloody tyre INTO the car. It was super-special when people stopped to look and comment, “I’ve never SEEN anyone do THAT before” or, even better, “Do you know that your tyre isn’t even on the wheel?” Um, yeah, *she* WAS aware of that.
The hardest bit? Ringing hubby in Tokyo in tears to tell him she’d stuffed the car up just 2 weeks into ownership. And that it would cost over $900 to fix.
Good times…
See? It’s so much easier when you talk about it in the third person.
Not that I – or rather ‘she’ – would ever do such a thing.
You’re right, speaking in third person might be annoying for *someone* to read, but it makes it sooo much easier to talk about her major gaffes that way. Cheers! 😉
I bet you also had a time machine moment. As you are crunching metal onto concrete you just wish you could fire up the flux capacitor and go back 5 mins before it all happened.
That is, if that had happened. Which it did not.
If I had a time machine -and only *IF* – I definitely would have used it to play a guitar solo at my parents’ prom night. That shit’s totally rad.
By the way, I love the fact you used the words ‘flux capacitor’…
Another car funny. And I didn’t leave my car running and the door open all day while at work in busy downtown [name of city withheld] so that my kid would get the call from the police at home and ring me at work in a panic and all-because-I-was-listening-to-Justin-Beiber when I arrived that morning. Just sayin’.