I’m incapable of keeping a car pristine. My Chevy Cobalt now sports a drooping passenger side mirror and scrapes on the door after the concrete post defining my narrow garage parking space claimed its latest victim. Not only did the Duct Tape Express succumb to that post on several occasions, but family members’ cars have followed suit. I suppose it’s my fate in life: always having something duct taped to my current car’s exterior. Can I stomach going back to the dealership after my recent spate of visits? Not while I still have a roll of tape in my possession.