Before I begin this blog I have to preface it with a story. It was about two years ago and on the job I had the responsibility of maintaining the fleet of vehicles assigned to our clinic. And by, responsible for, I mean keeping up with scheduled maintenance needs and ensuring they were taken care of, not getting under the hood. One of the things I always tried to do was to take care of in house whatever maintenance we could before taking the car to spend tax payer dollars at a mechanic's shop. I got overridden this one time by our CFO and was told if a professional tells you the car needs something you need to have it taken care of...we at the site knew it was only a battery; the mechanic said it was seven other things costing $546.23. A week later the car broke down again so without telling anyone I bought a new battery and my receptionator installed it and cranked the car and closed the hood in a very 'professional' manner! Needless to say, I have about as much energy for a mechanic as I do for the New York City Marathon.
On to present day.
I was running last minute errands this morning and all the sudden, in the CVS parking lot, I couldn't start my car. Less then 15 hours away from leaving on my cross country journey and the tiny check engine light suddenly holds my very future in its beam. You have got to be kidding me.
I look across the street and it appears there is a tiny auto repair business lost somewhere on the side of a auto parts store. I get the car to crank and we limp over. It is also a detail shop; although I am not sure that matters to the story except to report that apparently all three employees sitting on the sofa only work in the detail portion of the business. The room is the size of my bathroom; they are large men and I am annoyed instantly, wishing I never had learned a thing about customer service. One grunts to another then there is a louder grunt and suddenly a recovering Meth addict appears from behind a door that apparently opens to a brick wall.
I would like to run; but worry my car won't crank and that would just be embarrassing to have to slither back through the door carrying my judgement.
It is raining like a machine gun, which explains the detail workers on the sofa. The recovering addict assures me he is the mechanic as he feverishly sorts the brochures about the Fall Festival that happened two weeks ago and the expired coupon books. I give him the symptoms which have brought me here and he trips over the air as he grabs some testing device and heads out the door to the brick wall stating he "will test it".
I am confused as to why he didn't go out the door I came in since that is where the car is but who am I to question the professional.
His hands are moving so fast doing absolutely nothing. He proceeds to tell me what the testing device tells him. It appears there are two parts we need; the cam shaft position sensor and the O2 sensor, upstream. We return to the Maury Povich screening room and he begins to call all three auto parts stores that he knows. One will take 5 days to get the part in. The other two can have it tomorrow. I am supposed to be drinking wine with Anne Noe in Louisville tomorrow, not waiting on car parts. I suggest maybe trying the local dealer but they don't have a phone book and he only has the three numbers in his phone. He appears to have given up as he feverishly loads and unloads the company business cards; and I use the term 'company' loosely. I feel like I am blocking the guy on the rights view from the TV, oh wait no, he is just staring at my breasts.
I try 411 for a dealer and they keep giving me a dealer no closer then 100 miles away. I tell him I will go home and get on the computer. Within an hour I have located one of the two parts so resign that either way I will have to be here through tomorrow. I call Speedy the Mechanic and give him the news. He says he will order the other part and we can meet back at the tiny hole in the wall auto repair shop with the door leading to the brick wall and Larry, Darryl and Darryl tomorrow. I can hardly wait.
I am sure I am exaggerating but I just feel like suddenly the whole world is conspiring against me.
Recipes: Nothing left to do now but drink! I'll open the whine; you get the glasses Alfred.
Roadtrips: How many doors do we have to open before we don't hit a brick wall?
Renovations: Sometimes, you just have to suck it up!
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