Yup, I am that one. Could I feel more stupid? Probably not. This is the rest of the story from yesterdays trip to Relax The Back. I'm not proud, so I'll tell you my story as a word of caution.
When I got out to the parking lot and began placing my purchase in the back of the station wagon a young, clean cut Hispanic man approached me. He asked if I wanted to fix the chipped paint from my bumper. I said, "What, do you work for a body shop?" He said yes, but he was doing some side jobs to get money to pay the rent. His father was sitting in the (new) SUV while he talked with me. I said my car is almost 15 years old & I really didn't plan on doing anything to it. He said it would only cost me $100 and wouldn't take long to fix. I told him I didn't have any cash on me & he was so sweet to say that was okay, I could go to an ATM. (Shouldn't some sort of red light been flashing in my brain??Dumb. Dumb. Dumb.) Anyway, I called Patrick & asked what he thought and he said the bumper could use some work since some paint was peeling off. Go for it. So, I tell the young man okay, but where would he fix it. He suggested our house & I told him no, it is a condo & they don't allow anyone to work on their cars there. He said, well, I would have to buy him the paint, clear coat and turtle wax to do the job at Auto Zone anyway, so he'd do it in their parking lot. So, off to Auto Zone we go, the shill and his mark. Not only did I buy the 3 supplies he suggested, he asked me to buy him a soda pop too. AND I did! Sheesh, why didn't I buy one for his dad too?
While Casey (that was what his dad told me his name was) sanded and sprayed & acted like he knew what he was doing his dad, a small, balding fellow kept me occupied. He told me how beautiful my dogs were and he laid hands on Baby Rocket Dog (she had smelled the paint fumes) and knew what I will call Christianese...I asked him what church he went to & he vaguely said Pentecostal. I jokingly said, "You're not Mexican Gypsies are you? When it rains the paint will come off my car?" And he said oh no, his son was a good auto body man. He called me sister and told me he and his son, daughter and grandkids all lived in an apartment and the rent was due. He said he had lived in Seattle area and made easy small talk with me. Seemed like a nice enough guy. When Casey finished the bumper was covered in turtle wax and some gray over spray was on the regular paint. I said that looks weird and he said, no it'll be good, but you need to leave the wax on over night. And the over spray will come right off. CLANG. Clang. clang. Shouldn't I have realized this was a swizz? NOoooo, not me. I dutifully drive to the Credit Union to take out the cash to pay this little swindler and his dad. When I got home and looked at the bumper I got a really qweezy feeling in my stomach. Before Casey did his "job" on the bumper it had a few spots where the white paint had chipped off. Really not that bad. This is what it looks like today:
Lovely. I just hope they really needed the money, because my husband works very hard for what he earns and I feel like such a stupid, stupid woman. Patrick said we should be able to get it fixed, but I said I want to leave it looking that way as a reminder to me for being so dumb. The funny thing is, I never would have trusted these people before I was a Christian.
Yup, there is one born every minute. Yesterday around 1pm her name was Cassie.