Other Then Death ?

Is there anything worse then discovering a new door ding? :mad:

No. But, find a good PDR guy in your area. For $75 my guy fixes it perfect.

When I bought my Pathfinder it was full of little dings and one large dent. It was a "used car lot" special. For about $700, my PDR guy got dings and dent out of every panel, including the hood. Not a single ding left I can find. It's really amazing what these guys can do.
 
I can think of a million things worse than finding a ding.

For instance its way worse to find your vehicle isnt where you parked it and has been stolen!This happened to me once and its the worst feeling!

Dings are annoying though!
 
I can think of a million things worse than finding a ding.

For instance its way worse to find your vehicle isnt where you parked it and has been stolen!This happened to me once and its the worst feeling!

Dings are annoying though!

While I hate door dings I have to agree with DC like way over the top.

I've had two cars stolen through the years and once you realize you haven't misplaced it, it wasn't towed, a family member didn't borrow it, the reality of the situation sets in and some dirtbag stole it.... It's a sickening feeling right in the pit of your stomach....then I get very angry.:bonk:
 
Oh yeah, have some really magnificent stories of my own, like working on my Lemans Blue 1968 SS396 Camaro for a month straight, taking it to Chicago's Chinatown the first time out with it after a month of detailing, to get not but one, but two dents in the driver's door from some clown double parking next to it. (hit it getting out, and getting in, twice!)

Or my brand new black 1994 Lincoln Town Car, not three days old, and again the Chinatown syndrome at a doctor's office, with a clown parking me in, and scuffing the back bumper.

Or the Babe who had the Pee Wee Herman Bike, who I was renting her Garage from, where my 67 Ragtop Vette was stored, and when opening the garage door, her bike, which was laid up against that overhead door, fell on the hood, and front end. Trust me, that bike had little in the way of spokes when I got through with it with my foot.

Or, my 1976 Silver Camaro LT, 3 weeks old, went to rush st, and some goon with his Eldo had his bumper locked upon mine in a public parking lot. Needed a new Bumper in that one.

Or, the fully loaded mint white with red leather '66 T-Bird town coupe I had, which was stolen from a shop, never to be seen again.

Or my brand new 1980 Jeep Cherokee, not in front of my house 30 seconds from the dealership, when the next door neighbor's kid sister rams into the front fender with her bicycle.

Or my brand new 1986 Firebird HO in Flame Red Metallic, a week old, stopped into a convenience store for a soft drink, parked 400' away, and a nice ding from a clown who parked 6" away.

Chicago, what a wonderful place I once lived in! NOT!

Just a few of the choice nightmares of life in that turd of a town.
 
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