-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Car Woes

What a week! What is it, Tuesday? On Saturday, in the hot hot heat of Kansas City, we left the house to take my car to get the brakes replaced. We dropped off the car around 11:00 and were told it would be ready at 3:00 pm. After a nice lunch, we stopped at Ryan�s office to take care of a couple of tasks then went to the River Market where we basted on the hot hot concrete while trying to select some fresh produce. Ugh! Big mistake! Hot as hell, we got back in the car and drove aimlessly for a few minutes before deciding that we couldn�t possibly live if we didn�t have a drink. Enter Taco Hell or Ghetto Bell. Whichever you prefer to call it. They have Diet Mt. Dew. Diet Mt. Dew sounded incredibly refreshing and Taco Hell was nearby. Ryan pulled up to the drive-thru and ordered a single large Diet Mt. Dew. As we pulled around to the bulletproof Plexiglas box that serves as the drive-thru window at our neighborhood Taco Hell, we saw a Taco Hell employee walk from outside into the building then behind the counter. The bulletproof tray shot out delivering a large Diet Mt. Dew. Ryan reached up to put the money in the plexi-slot when we heard a mumble come from the speaker system. After twice asking the person to repeat themselves, we heard, �Keep your money. Don�t worry about it.� The man who had just entered the building peered out from over the counter over the shoulder of the employee who had served us our drink. Ryan took his money back and drove off.

Sweet! We thought at first. Then I noticed that the straw was already inserted into the drink. Neither of us had done that. I�m not really sure what entered my mind first � the thought of the employee touching my straw with his bare hands or the suspicion that a free drink on a hot day from Taco Hell was too good to be true. Diet Mt. Dew is crazy bright yellow. That color can be masked with lots of things. Why was the second employee outside? Had someone else been drinking out of our straw? Why is it free? Did the manager of Taco Hell tell the employees to give out free drinks to spread good Taco Hell will? Were the employees pissed at The Man and fighting back by giving away high revenue earning beverages? Why? Why would anyone give us a free drink? And why was the straw already in the drink???

The questions were too much. Despite being incredibly thirsty and insanely hot, neither of us could muster the nerve to take even one sip from the free Diet Mt. Dew. We had pondered flipping the straw over, and I had even taken the lid off and observed nothing floating in our drink. Nonetheless, our suspicion outweighed what was most likely a gesture of kindness and understanding from a fast food worker with a big heart. We pulled into a KFC, and Ryan gladly paid for a large regular Mt. Dew while I poured the free Diet Mt. Dew onto the ground where the ice melted instantly on the boiling hot pavement.

Back to the car � we�d taken mine in to get new brakes which of course turned into much much more. The rear brakes needed new rotors and while trying to remove a rusty bolt, the guy managed to snap the bolt in two and didn�t have the parts necessary to replace the bolt on a Saturday afternoon � when it was nearing closing time � and he had a six pack of Hamms on ice in his Monte Carlo. We had no choice but to leave my car in the shop until Sunday.

Yesterday, I drove Ryan to work, and then drove to my office then drove back to his office to pick him up so that we could go get my car by closing time. I had driven his car all day without issue. When I arrived at his office, he was finishing up a meeting, so I took the chance to catch up with one of his co-workers who asked about the car in the shop assuming it was the Probe when really it was my car in the shop. Nonetheless, I made fun of the Probe and its unusually long doors, and I swear it heard me. Ryan finished up his meeting, I handed him the keys and we got in the Probe. It started. Ryan let off the gas. It died. We repeated this activity at least five times, each time the car would idle to death. Ryan looked at me accusingly and asked what I did. Um, nothing?

After accepting defeat, he went back and found a co-worker who could help us get to the shop to get my car. Of course that took longer than it should have, but my car was back with new brakes intact�except � wait, I�ll get to that later. Back at the office, we stared at the engine of the Probe trying to find some of the obvious things gone wrong that my brother and father had suggested. It only took seconds for it to become abundantly clear that we weren�t fixing anything anytime soon. I left in my car, and Ryan promised to call me the minute he was going to try driving his car home. The trick is that his car ran and functioned perfectly fine so long as you had your foot on the gas. He was about to attempt to drive through Kansas City without braking or idling at all. Fun.

As I pulled into the driveway, I rolled down my window to appreciate the lack of squeaking that an overly expensive brake job brings. I was greeted with the sound of a dying rabbit. The squeals and squeaks were horrendous. Great. Just fucking great. That reminds me. I need to call Paco so he can confirm that it isn�t the back breaks causing the squeaking noise because so help me if that jackass ripped me off, I�ll storm down there and ask kindly and politely for him to fix them again. Yeah. That�ll show him!

Ryan was able to get his car to the shop � a different shop, and I picked him up and brought him home. Again this morning, he enjoyed a chauffeured drive to work while I extended my morning commute by 20 minutes. Bleh. He called a few minutes ago saying that the guy at the shop was able to diagnose and fix his problem the same way you might fix an old TV not getting the greatest reception. He took a wrench and hit the top of the thingymajig really hard. The car started and idled without issue. No charge. Now that�s a good car repair guy!

5:11 p.m. - July 26, 2005

previous - next