James and I yelled at each other on the way home. His car keeps getting scratched up from other people’s bad parallel parking. My view: if you can’t take the scratching, don’t drive it. If you decide you must drive it, accept the scratching. It’s just part of owning a car. His view: I can’t possibly know anything about it since I don’t drive, and I’m just being biased against him to begin with because I’m a hippie cyclist.
Then we went and built me a rear wheel. I took the frame along for some reason, and it acquired several scratches in the paint along the way. And James says I don’t know anything about getting scratches in the paint of my nice stuff! Bah.
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