Hertzaphobia - a fear of rental cars

I have a fear of rental cars. Anybody who travels for business probably has had this at one time or another but my fear has persisted and gotten worse. You are probably wondering, what is there to fear? The cars are generally new or mostly new, they smell nice, the radio works (maybe even satellite), no smelly baby seats or diet soda cans littering the floor, what gives?

The first thing you do at the rental counter is sign and initial and declare and accept/refuse six pages of paperwork at fourteen different spots: "Initial here, here, here, here, here, here, here, here, here, here, go to the next page, initial here, here, here, here, here, and sign and initial here." I signed less papers when I settled on my first house. I heard a saying one time that went something like you know, every time you sign something there was a lawsuit years ago that created the reason to sign that paper.

So right away, I feel like I'm signing my life away. One wrong move and bam!

It seems the strategy is to take someone who is fairly confident and comfortable renting a car and scaring the crud out of them. So then I'm like, "Give me the insurance!"

"Which one would you like?"
"The insurance that will keep me from paying anything if I get into an accident."
"Which kind? Collision Damage Waiver? Extended Protection? Accidental injury?"
"The kind where if I hit somebody, I'm good and if they hit me, I'm good."

So I'm told that as long as you have Collision Damage Waiver and somebody hits you, you are good. Somebody hits me. I'm not good. "You got the wrong kind."

"But the guy told me..."
"He told you wrong."

See what I mean. Now when I rent a car, I park it like a sixteen year old kid at the WalMart, taking up three spaces and parking a mile from everybody else. I don't want a scratch or nibble. I try to hide it everywhere I go. But it is no use, I am a rental car ding magnet.

One time, I get a little ding at the hotel parking lot. Crud! I don't want to pay anymore money, I did nothing! So I get clever. I'll try to slide it by the guy when I take it back. When the guy is coming around to inspect the car at the return line, I put my suitcase right next to the ding to cover it. No dice. Caught. Wrong insurance again.

It's to the point where I do my own 47 point inspection when I pick up the car, I turn in a written report, and expect initials and confirmations before I leave the lot.

Then I pray like a fiend I won't get dinged again.