There is nothing more surprising than finding a mysterious scratch on your automobile. There is also nothing more predictable than finding a mysterious scratch on your automobile. These statements seem contradictory and yet they are completely in agreement. Discovering a mysterious scratch is one of life's most surprisingly predictable occurrences.
It begins when you return to your car. You're about to get in and then you do a double take.
Is that? Could that be? Was it there before? What the …
And then you realize – you asked for it. You parked your car. You left your car in a parking lot or on a public street. That's like leaving raw meat hanging in the lions' cage or smearing your body with honey and then kung fu-kicking a beehive. How can you be surprised that some stranger got a little close and left a scratch on your paint job?
You asked for it. You parked your car.
This fact was once again made clear to me the other week when a day blowing money at Canada's Wonderland ended with a weary retreat to the Grand Caravan (the Anti-Porsche). As we neared our vehicle, the damage was visible. It looked as if someone had tried to draw a map of the Mississippi River on our rear right side using the end of a pair of scissors.
After the initial shock, my wife and I had the "scratch conversation," one so common and clichéd it's probably repeated around the world at every passing second.
"Do you see that?" I rubbed the scratch hoping it was just an odd smear. No such luck. It was a significant laceration marring my paint job.
"Oh my …"
The kids acted as Greek chorus, commenting on the action and summarizing our predicament.
That's a really big scratch! Who did that?
What portent from the gods is this? My soul is amazed! "Was that there before?" I asked, thinking the answer might fall from the sky.
"I don't think so," my wife said, examining the scrape closely.
We stood bewildered. Then, after a few awkward moments, my wife said what I was thinking, "Is it even physically possible to make that scratch? It's nowhere near a door or anything."
Then it was time for the conspiracy theories. Did someone key us in anger? No, the scratch was too random. It lacked the signature aggression of a keying incident. Did the person behind this know they did it and then run off? Was it a result of casual arrogance?
It's at this point that I feel grateful I own a Grand Caravan. Don't get me wrong. I like and treasure the Anti-Porsche – you can hate it all you want; it moves families around pretty well. And it's the sort of car you won't fall into a despondent bout of melancholy over if it gets a mysterious scratch. What if it was a 2016 Alfa Romeo 4C? An Audi A3? Even a brand new Dodge Charger?
There would be tears my friends, tears.
Perhaps we can get a few of the engineers who spend so much time on self-driving cars and solar-powered roads to invest a little energy on scratch-prevention? Should Ferraris come with some kind of bubble wrap that can be used when parking?
Then we did what drivers have been doing for decades. We took one more look at the offending scrape, the sinister blemish, the newly arrived gash, and we got in the car and tried not to think about it. The next day it was still there.
We were not surprised.
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Andrew Clark