Anyone Know A Good Garage Door Guy?


When I got out of my car at the dealership Thursday morning, I joked with my service adviser that "it wouldn't be long before we became best friends."

She laughed, but there was some truth to that jest. The nearly 190-mile round trip from my home in West Virginia's Eastern Panhandle to my job in Washington, D.C. means I put a lot of miles on my car. 

And that means lots of oil changes.

And plenty of opportunities for the dealer to drain my wallet.    

For better or worse, my service adviser and I are going to get to know each other quite well. 

For now, though, it's probably too soon in our relationship to start complaining about the kids. Otherwise, I would have pulled out my phone, shown her a picture of my seemingly innocent 17-year-old daughter and then swiped over to a picture of the garage door she mangled this week. 

I had just settled into my favorite chair with a fresh cup of coffee Tuesday evening when my daughter rushed into the house. I was surprised because she had just left to pick up a friend for an evening at the county fair. 

"Daaaaaad," she said with a quaver to her voice. "I did something stupid!"

I took a sip of my coffee before putting it down, slipping on my Crocs and following her out to the garage where all I could do was agree with her - she "did something stupid." That is to say, she tried to back her mom's car out of the garage with the door down.

I did the same thing a few years ago. We had opening night tickets to see "Star Wars: The Force Awakens" and in my excitement to see the first "Star Wars" movie to hit theaters in years, I forgot to raise the garage door. But where I just tapped it, my daughter slammed into it as if she were piloting the Millennium Falcon at light speed.

All four of the door's panels were damaged. The windows that run along the top were cracked and the bottommost panel was folded beneath the car and caught on the muffler.

Good thing we have a two-door garage. Otherwise, my wife's car would still be stuck in there. It took some doing, but I was able to disentangle the muffler and maneuver her car out the adjacent door. 

There's no real damage to the car, but that garage door is a mess. Having to replace it is going to be a hassle. And being the money-miser that I am, it's an expense I don't relish. In the moment, though, my daughter crashing into the door didn't bother me so much as the thought of that fresh cup of coffee getting cold.

Priorities.

Anyway, no matter how friendly we get, my service adviser probably won't ever want to hear about my garage door troubles any more than my daughter wanted me to plaster her accident all over the internet.

But since I'm the one who must go to all the trouble and expense to replace the door, let's just consider this post her punishment and leave it at that. 

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