Oh, What a Day

Thursday evening Jonathan was involved in a car accident on I-75 downtown Atlanta.

He’s fine. A little shaken up (a wreck in the middle of I-75 is no joke) but not injured. (Thank you, God.) (Thank you St. Christopher medal on the dashboard.)

What wasn’t fine was Jonathan’s 2001 Hyundai Elantra.  

Immediately following the accident Jonathan did everything we had taught him to do: he called 9-11, he called home, and he called our insurance company for a (free) tow. They told them they had someone on the way and should be there shortly.

The police arrived, and within seconds so did another towing company. And while Jonathan was filling out paperwork this tow company loaded up his car and towed it away. He wasn’t given a choice.

Evidently, this tow company has a contract with the city, so they hover like vultures to swoop in to tow your car (for $220) and then stow it in their lot, after which you are charged $25/day until you have it removed.

So Friday morning , Joe and I (and Timothy) drove to  A Tow in south Atlanta while Jonathan, who has one week left of his summer internship, was working. Before I describe our experience, let me describe the place: there were bars on the doors, the receptionist sat behind thick glass (bullet proof?) and passed paperwork through tiny slots, the chairs in the waiting room were covered with mysterious stains, there was no hand soap in the women's bathroom, and Timothy said the urinal in the men’s bathroom had blood on it.

We were there for THREE HOURS. We found Jonathan’s car, took photos of the damage, and removed Jonathan’s things. (Rescued: one Eagles baseball hat.) (Side note: Timothy and I crawled all over the inside of that car, and we could not find the St. Christopher medal.) (Mental note: get another St. Christopher medal for Jonathan.) There was no doubt the car was totaled so we assumed that A Tow would salvage it. Huh. Wouldn’t you know that A Tow doesn’t do salvage anymore—only towing—so in order to remove the vehicle (which was un-drivable) and avoid the $25/day lot fee, we would need to HAVE IT TOWED. Again.

It was so ridiculous. Joe was hopping mad, while Timothy and I tried to smooth things over all while not touching anything in the place.

And they weren’t helpful. Oh, they offered to tow the car (Ha!) but they couldn’t give us any helpful advice as to what salvage yard to call. So Joe, who was still hopping mad, made a flurry of phone calls and arranged for our own tow and we got the hell out of Dodge.

Okay, that’s a tad dramatic, but after three hours in that place we were so done. We followed our tow truck driver, Josh, to Pull-A-Part where they paid us the grand total of $280 for a pile of scrapped metal. Afterwards, we dropped off the van with Jonathan at work, spoke to him for 15 minutes while I poked and prodded to make sure he was really and truly okay (he was), gave him a huge bear hug (or two), and then we started the drive home.

On I-75.

During rush hour traffic.

On a Friday afternoon.