Tuesday, April 29, 2008

The showdown

I've been dealing with these shenanigans for months. I've tried to be nice. I've tried to deal with it. Wednesday was the last straw. No more Ms Nice Girl. The showdown has begun...

I've written about this situation here a few times before, but let me give you a rundown.

My car has been misbehaving. It's different than the ol' Beastmobile misbehaviour. That was just quirky and stuff I just let go, resigned to the fact that some things just didn't work. This is the "expensive" kind of misbehaving.

July. She was overheating. I gave her a new water pump.

November. She was overheating again. I gave her a new water pump, fan, and computer.

End of December. What a hottie. Dang car just wouldn't keep cool. Oh, and she vented her frustration by billowing large clouds of white smoke out its tailpipe and chugging along like Chitty Chitty Bang Bang on drugs. Everyone thought she was asking me for a new head gasket, but she behaved just enough that her doctor wasn't convinced. So she got another new water pump, fan, computer, and a few other tweaks, bells, and whistles.


Beginning of January. Nope. She's definitely asking for a new head gasket. Poor baby. So, being the good car momma I am, I gave her one.


March. She's been leaking for a while. I've had her fixed once, but to no avail. So I took her to the leak specialist, who fixed her up good and dried her all out.


Beginning of April. As evidenced by my friend's wet bum after five minutes of sitting in my backseat, the car was not completely dry. In fact, you know the sound of squeesing a soaking wet sponge? Weeellll, that's about the sound that my back seat made when you pressed on it. So I have my car a trip to the drier. Complimentary, thank goodness, but still a pain to have to take in. My patience with her was running low.

Last Wednesday. All is running well. All is dry and happy. All is cleaned, vaccuumed, spic and span. The only gentle request was for some gas - which I was happy to provide. Excpet I was running late for bootcamp. So I pushed the envelope a little. She's usually quite good to me that way. I went from bootcamp to work, again pressed for time. And then from work to tutoring accross the city. Then to Bible study. Gak! Below the red! Be good to me, girl! Be good to me!

As SOON as I could on the way home from Bible study, I stopped for gas. (And no, I didn't run out of gas, thankyouverymuch!) Reached down to pull the little lever to open the gas tank.

Nothing.

Huh?

I pulled again. Nothing.

Turns out when they were putting my car back together, they put the little plastic cover that goes over the trunk lever and the gas tank lever on incorrectly, basically incapacitating the gas lever. Soooo, there was no way to open the door to fill the tank. Which was below the red, and had been for two trips accross the city already. I still had to get home. And back to the shop in the morning. Accross the city again.

Hmmm.

Here's a tip. Don't EVER ask gas station attendants to help you with anything other than pumping gas. I asked if maybe he had a jimmy stick or whatever that might pop the gas cover open. Instead he took a metal rod and pried the door open jsut enought that it stuck out from the body of the car. "Well, I opened it a little bit!" Uh, no buddy. You bent the door to my gas tank. Grrr!

So, gas-less and driving on a prayer, I drove home. And then to the shop. Again. They fixed it up and gave me $20 of liquid gold (hooray!), but then ol' Civvie and I had a wee little talk.

A showdown, if you will.

Eyeball to headlight, I told her straight.

"Look. I've been taking good care of you. And for the most part you've been taking good care of me. But these shenanigans of continually breaking on me? They've got to stop. Right. Now."

She stared me down without saying a word. I couldn't tell if she was hearing me or just waiting till my little rant was done.

I told her she'd better behave or she'd be sorry, but I think my threats fell on deaf mirrors, as I heard her mocking me silently as I walked away. Then today, almost as payback, her brakes have begun to squeal.

Oy.

Any readers out there thought this story was gonna be about a person? Sorry to dissapoint!

1 comment:

Katrina said...

Heehee! We should have known! I hate to be the first one to utter those two dreadful words, but: "new car".