Thank God for Dr. Scrape. I call him “the ghost” because he somehow appears when you need him most and then is gone before you can say thank you. I honestly think he may have saved my marriage. How you ask? Well, you wouldn’t think that someone who could afford a Ferrari would need his wife’s approval before he get’s one, but here I am. OK, approval’s the wrong word. Actually my wife is great and I love her very much. Unfortunately, she doesn’t quite understand why with 2 kids in college and 2 more a few years away, I’d want to spend $252,800 on a car. Fair point. Even more so when you consider that I managed to scratch it up badly on our first outing. Here are the true events that led to meeting my savior Dr. Scrape aka “the ghost”.
The Trouble Begins
As I mentioned, my wife was not too keen on me buying my dream car, but she understood. After all, I’ve wanted a Ferrari since I played with matchbox cars in my bedroom as a kid and this was a Ferrari 488 GT. I even brought her with me to the dealership for a test drive. She admitted to me that she hadn’t seen me this happy since our youngest was born. I asked her the fateful question, “Does this make me look like I’m going through a mid-life crisis?” She laughed and answered, “Not as long as you have me sitting in the passenger seat.” Her laugh was all I needed to hear. The car was mine.
Everything seemed to be working out perfectly until… day 2. You see day 2 was a beautiful Sunday, the perfect day for a drive. My wife had some shopping she wanted to do so I offered to take her in my new Ferrari. I happily dropped her off at the Grove where she was meeting friends for lunch. Then I took my baby out toward Malibu and opened her up. A new engine needs to be broken in… or so I told myself.
An hour passed without me even noticing. I was in the zone roaring down the PCH and zipping through neighborhoods, I didn’t even see the danger. I hit the dip in the road going about 60 mph. The paint job didn’t stand a chance. The car bottomed out hard and I heard the front end scratch as if it were slow motion. No!!! I pulled over to take a look. It was not good and I only had a few hours before my wife would know what I’d done.
From Out of Nowhere Enters Dr. Scrape
My frustration level went from 0-140 in about half a second. While I was kicking dirt and cursing on the side of the road a non-descript van pulled up and a curious looking man hopped out. He quickly walked to the front of the car, kneeled down to get a good look and shook his head. “Can I help you?” I asked angrily. I was in no mood. This odd stranger looked up an replied, “No, but I can help you.”
He introduced himself as Dr. Scrape and said that he would be glad to repair the damage to the paint job. What’s the catch? I would have to allow him to show me how to protect the car. He wanted to keep the paint job safe from dips, potholes, speed bumps, steep driveways and any other villains that may be looking to cause mischief. I told him that I had to pick up my wife soon and she wasn’t going to be happy. He assured me I would make it to the Grove in time. How did he know?
Prep and Apply the Ferrari Skid Plate
Dr. Scrape wasted no time. From his “Mystery Machine” van came the tools he needed to do the job. I watched in awe as he instructed me. Dr. Scrape sprayed, erased, and rotary buffed his way to a spotless bumper. What came next was truly amazing. Without a moment to lose Dr. Scrape began installing the Ferrari Skid Plate. He explained as he moved that the Skid Plate is applied with an incredibly strong adhesive so there was no need for drilling. By the time he was done, you could barely tell that the Skid Plate was there. It was so perfectly aerodynamic in it’s design!
The Moment of Truth
After thanking Dr. Scrape I hopped in my Ferrari and hurried back to the Grove where my wife was waiting. When she asked why I was a few minutes late I showed her the Ferrari Skid Plate and told her I went to get protection for the paint job. “From scratches?” she asked. Then she told me that while she was shopping, she met a charming man named Dr. Scrape who said that you might be a few minutes late, but everything was ok. When she asked him how he knew me, he just smiled and said he had to get back.
I’m not exactly sure what happened that day, but I am truly grateful to my teacher and benefactor. Someday, I’ll pass on the knowledge that Dr. Scrape gave me to someone in need. It’s the least I can do.