You're in Urine

I park my car in a covered parking garage below my apartment building. A few weeks ago I found myself in the garage sniffing the air. To my unpleasant surprise, I smelled urine. Dry urine.

I know the smell well. Once upon a time in the dormitories, a male friend who crashed in my room slept-urinated (yes, a play on slept-walked) on my dresser and desk chair.

The dry urine hit my nostrils and practically punched me in the face. So, you could imagine my dismay when I realized the dry urine smell was coming from my car.

That's right, someone had urinated on my vehicle. I concluded a drunk had not been able to hold it. I cursed him with my fist in the air. I then gave the car a bath.

Two days later, it happened again. I concluded another drunk had chosen my car because it was closest to the corner and had bad aim. I cursed him with my fist in the air. I then gave the car a bath.

While in Georgia, I believe someone may have done it again, although I have no conclusive evidence.

Friday I got my oil changed and the fluids checked before my long drive to the internship. I parked the car in the garage. A couple of hours later, mayhem ensued!

My roommate announced: "It appears as though someone has dumped a whole bucket of sugar or salt or cocaine on your Daewoo."

I went to survey the situation. She was correct. Someone HAD dumped a whole bucket of sugar or salt or cocaine on my Daewoo. Enough to fill up a sandbox for a small child.

So, the question is: Who hates me?

What have I done to merit this abuse or, better question, what has the DAEWOO done?

I don't think I have any enemies. At least, I have no archenemies.

The villain obviously doesn't know me very well. If s/he did, s/he would know that I don't like my car very much and it's not very emotionally traumatizing to find piss or salt or sugar or cocaine on my car.

I can name about 9,000 things that would be more mentally abusive. None that I will announce online as YOU are probably the culprit and taking notes right now.

You're in urine.

Any suggestions as to the identity of my own personal hater are encouraged.