I've known my friend Kian since freshman year orientation of university wayy back in the 2000s. He seemed like a really cool kid that was fun to be around. In a weird twist of fate, we ended up next door neighbors in our dorm halls and became best bros instantly. We carried this enthusiasm throughout our college life. We both were car fanatics, we both played lacrosse in high school, and we both loved booze and weed like any other teenager. Kian and I have done some ridiculously reckless sh*t (that I can only look back and laugh at) but we managed to survive college despite our delinquencies. By the end of college, we were pretty much inseparable; we 200% had each other's back in any situation. Funny story: Kian actually took my calculus final for me after I passed out drunk the night before. I woke up hungover and completely flustered. I had the biggest knot in my stomach because the final was 40% of my grade. Knowing all hope was lost, I hadn't even bothered to email my professor for a 2nd chance.
A few days later, I run into my calculus professor at the bakery 3 minutes from campus. He approaches me and I just think "f*ck, fu*k, I'm f***ed.." He reaches out his hand and congratulates me on the highest grade on the final. His once austere face showed a hint of a smile. My now clammy, trembling hands shake his and I mumble "th-thh-thanks? Wait what?" Kian never spoke a word of this, and little did he know he saved my a** GPA wise. We sat next to each other at our commencement in utter awe of the fact that we succeeded. Although we both had a rough first few years academically, we struggled like brothers. Somehow we both managed to get internships lined up, and suddenly newfound responsibilities awaited us. He asked me in jest to be his best man when the time came. Of course I said "hell yeah buddy!" We partied one last time together that night and had a blast. Summer came, and we promised to keep in touch. Nothing went as planned, and we became strangers just about as quickly as we became friends.
Fast forward to a month ago, I receive a post card from a familiar address. It was Kian's same sloppy a** handwriting on the front, but a very pleasant surprise written on the back. In the decade or so I have not spoken to him, he met a lovely woman at his job, are expecting a baby girl, and already have wedding plans in place! Apparently the bride's younger brother backed out as best man last minute, and Kian strongly insisted to his wife (whom I've never seen, met, or spoken to) that he would call off the wedding unless I was his best man. I called him and gave him a resounding yes, shared a few good laughs and tried to catch up with time. I was honestly flattered that after all these years, he still considered me one of his best friends. I soon receive a formal wedding invitation in the mail, and I meet him the next day for his bachelor's party at his dad's rented beach house in Malibu. We had a couple of beers/hot dogs, and we eventually stepped outside for a cigarette. I could see the excitement in his childish grin. He wouldn't stop talking about his wonderful fiancé, his new job and his outlook on life. In other words, he got his sh*t together and is now an accomplished man. We chat it up about cars and he's been through his fair share: 2008 Cayman, MK3 Supra Turbo and currently drives MK1 TT 3.2 DSG and Volvo C30 T5 manual. We walk around to the front driveway and I show him around my M5. He was in utter shock-- literally glued to the car. He's always wanted an E39 M5 back in the day, and he told me the F10 M5 is one of his dream cars for him and his wife. Naturally, I toss him the keys and off we go for a spin around PCH. We came back to the house after a 20 min drive, laughing our butts off with a perma-smile on his face. It was priceless. He jokingly mused that he was thinking of renting an M5 at Hertz for him and his wife's honeymoon to Santa Barbara in 2 weeks. I told him Hertz was overpriced, and they should just grab a mustang convertible to enjoy the open top experience on a scenic route. He agreed. We both stepped inside and while he mingled with all his other guests, I sat off to the side contemplating what he just casually said. I haven't seen him in 10 years, but I felt that I trusted him with my M5. He's had a decent collection of sporty cars, so he definitely was responsible. And shoot, it's the least I could do as his best man. After all he's done for me, what's a slight favor on my behalf? I pull him out of one of his conversations and offer my car for his weekend getaway with his wife in 2 weeks. I told him I was gonna detail my car it and lend it to him with a full tank of gas for the trip as my wedding present. Initially, he was hesitant, his wife would not be comfortable, blah blahh... I told him it would be a privilege for me to help them enjoy their little escape from reality. After much obliging, he agreed, and vouched to watch the car more than he watched pornography. Here was the arrangement:
-The trip was to take 2 days, return the car on the 3rd,
- it is ~80 miles one way, he said he probably wouldn't be able to use the full tank
-He was going to lend me his Volvo for those 3 days
So the time came and I dropped off my car and key at his house. I helped him and his (now) wife pack their belongings (5 small luggages seemed excessive, but didn't think twice) and gave him a quick rundown of the electronic gadgets in the car. He tossed me his Volvo keys, at which point I urged him to call me if he needed anything else. I gave them the phone number to one of my good friends who runs a quaint cafè not too far from their hotel and told them to put anything they wanted on my tab. We both went on our ways. The next day, I saw his FB picture posts of Santa Barbara, the scenery, the beaches... I stumbled on his wife's page and noticed a photo of him driving my car, window open, and a LIT CIGARETTE in his hand
I am a light smoker, but I have NEVER smoked in my car, anyone else's cars, or casinos for that matter. I was disturbed to say the least, but decided not to let my emotions get in the way of everything. I wasn't going to be a killjoy and call him out during his honeymoon I figured I'd just vacuum the car when he gave it back, no problem. Finally the 3rd day came. I took the day off to wash his C30, polish it, vacuum, and tidy it up as another gesture of kindness. After waiting around my house all day, Kian calls around 10PM , sounding a bit perturbed and rushed. They were running late, but the nav found a good detour to shorten the trip. I told him I was gonna hit the hay, and I was gonna leave his car keys with the guard at the gate out the front of my small complex. I told him to park my car on the driveway and put my keys in my door's mail slot. I faintly hear the rumble of my exhaust around 1:35 AM, but was far too tired to get up to invite them in for some tea and pastries. Shortly after I get a text giving me his utmost gratitude for my help on their trip.The next morning, I wake up for work, quick shower, grab my key fob and sprint outside because I was already 15 min behind schedule. The car was pretty filthy, but nothing absurd. Wheels were caked with brake dust, splattered bugs on the bumper, headlights, and windshield. Wiper fluid streaks on the roof. I shrugged it off because I was already so damn late. I step inside, and first thing I notice: it reeks! Smelled like a Vegas slot machine at 2 AM. Again, I brush it off because I knew full well he smoked in the car. The carpets have mud, leaves, and sand. I turn around and look at the back, the back seats are dusty, and the once mint conditioned carpets (no one really rides in the back) also had sand and grime. I sit there for a moment, and decide it could be worse. I start the engine, and as I click my seatbelt, I notice a 3 fun size Snickers candy wrappers on the side of the seat and an empty pack of Camels. I open the center console and find a melted (but unopened) Kit Kat bar and 2 drive thru receipts from McDonald's along with an unused straw (he told me he would never eat in my car). I was nearly seething inside because I knew there was probably more hidden treasures i.e. garbage I have yet to find. I pull out of my driveway, low fuel warning. Great, gotta fill up. I glance at my gauges, and notice the car has racked up more than 2000 miles on it. WTF??? I pull to the gas station, and fill up. My trip computer says the car averaged about 9.2 mpg, wow. I notice in the glove box a receipt for a Mobil gas transaction. The receipt said $3.92/gal. Immediately I thought, "that better not freaking be 87 octane" Icing on the cake: both passenger side wheels have curb rash, both rear tires are scabbed up and nearly bald. Front bumper scraped pretty decently. Oh joy.
Dilemma:
I called him that night I got back from work regarding the damages on the car in a calm fashion (still have not brought up the mileage or cigarettes, not sure how I should go about bringing it up) He and his wife seemed super apologetic and vowed to cover other damages I find, god forbid I find more. I took my car to get a quote on a wheel repair last week, but he has been consistently dodging my calls. I sent multiple texts asking if he wanted to grab lunch. Nada. My gf tells me I'm the imbecile for trusting my friend with my pride and joy. My head tells me "it's just a lease" but my coworkers tells me "he just forcefully bumf*cked your ride and returned you a used condom"
Really at a loss right now. Just finished clearing out the residual gunk in the car, but not sure if I can clear my conscience with Kian. I honestly feel f*cked over, but I am not confrontational. If you survived my melodramatic rant, I applaud you. Please shed some insight on what angle I should take on approaching this. I have never felt this disrespected from someone I considered a brother. Anger does not accurately describe how I feel, not really sure....
TL;DR--Long lost college friend gets engaged, I offer my M5 as their road trip car, get it back looking and smelling like a cracked out hooker. How mad should I be?
). Not gonna lie, I get a little uneasy when hearing about academic dishonesty but I'll leave that for another thread.
