Saturday, August 28, 2004
Quiet on the South Side....
Got my car. I am so exhausted with this experience, I feel like putting it all down will just make me need to go back to bed. I'll topline it, and acknowledge that looking back at my anger, I admit I'm channelling some "other" anger into the situation. However, in my defense, I really dislike alarmist car service men, and the facts do support I was being treated this way because I'm a woman. ARGH!
At 5:00 I got a call saying they wanted to KEEP MY CAR some more. He'd already installed four new fuel injectors into it. (Methinks this was an overreaction!) We argued back and forth over the fuel situation. I read to him from the ethanol website the facts of how a high ethanol fuel can trigger some cars' computer emission detection systems. John was pacing outside my office, because we had a very synchronized after-work process already in place to go to HIS car dealership, in his roommate's truck, and then I would follow him, driving his truck, out south to my dealership. (He had two trucks, I had none. More on driving a truck later!) Anyhow, fifteen minutes of me losing my temper on the phone resulted in them giving up MY CAR. He actually said, "Your car is sick. I need to find out what's making it sick." Here's the amazing part. We got there right at 6:00 (phew!), and I made John go in with me. I swear the resulting experience was different because a MAN was standing next to me, and that makes me NUTTY-O! Suddenly we're all calm about me taking the car. We're fine - and the light that wouldn't go off - it's now off! The fuel injectors are now firing at the correct whatevers. See, honestly, I don't care. It's a Honda. They are not known for lemons. So what they want me to do is drive the car until I use up the current tank of fuel, then put mid-premium fuel in for the next tank. Oooooookaaaaay.......? I just wanted my car so I was not in any state to be quizzing him, but John said exactly what I was thinking (oh, and I forgot to mention that the majority of the conversation about my car took place towards John's head - the first minute he did it, I started to smirk & it was all I could do not to bust out laughing. so transparent!) - back to what I was thinking: "So why didn't you siphon out the fuel?" (if said fuel was the culprit and problem? and it took some stammering & jumping around, first referencing that I'd already paid for the fuel - hello, if I bought a really nice Wusthof knife, and accidentally jammed it into my thigh? I don't care about the fact I bought the knife, it's in my leg & it shouldn't be, let's take it out! - and then he finally had to say the fuel was not harming my car. Excellent, and I have a witness. I suspect he called Iowa to discuss ethanol fuel, because - duh - everybody in Iowa drives on ethanol. Long story summed up: got my car, only had to pay for the exorbitantly-priced services I'd already agreed to, and now I am turning over the Car Maintenance portion of this marriage over to James. Yay!
Driving a Ford-150 pickup truck was both nerve-wracking & fun. I am too confident sometimes about things, which is usually followed by terror flashes that in my confidence I'm missing something really basic & apparent. Like will the back end of this giant pickup go crazily skidding across another lane of traffic when I go around the fountain circle? YIKES! (It doesn't, at least not at 35 mph) I felt self-conscious because John was right in front of me, and it's his truck. I also didn't feel terribly secure in knowing where I was in the lane, like centered vs. hugging one side or the other, because a Civic is lower to the ground & I'm used to it's size. But it definitely was fun to drive & be up high, I see why everybody buys SUV's, it's just unfortunate they're such gas guzzlers and oh say killer vehicles if they hit someone in oh say a Civic.
Well, hey, it's Saturday, Princess Day of the Week, and I'm gonna enjoy some hot wings that my sweetie brought be back from Hooters. Love the wings, think the dining-in experience is sorta stupid. At least they don't pretend to be a family restaurant. Honesty is scarce in America, especially at a car dealership.
At 5:00 I got a call saying they wanted to KEEP MY CAR some more. He'd already installed four new fuel injectors into it. (Methinks this was an overreaction!) We argued back and forth over the fuel situation. I read to him from the ethanol website the facts of how a high ethanol fuel can trigger some cars' computer emission detection systems. John was pacing outside my office, because we had a very synchronized after-work process already in place to go to HIS car dealership, in his roommate's truck, and then I would follow him, driving his truck, out south to my dealership. (He had two trucks, I had none. More on driving a truck later!) Anyhow, fifteen minutes of me losing my temper on the phone resulted in them giving up MY CAR. He actually said, "Your car is sick. I need to find out what's making it sick." Here's the amazing part. We got there right at 6:00 (phew!), and I made John go in with me. I swear the resulting experience was different because a MAN was standing next to me, and that makes me NUTTY-O! Suddenly we're all calm about me taking the car. We're fine - and the light that wouldn't go off - it's now off! The fuel injectors are now firing at the correct whatevers. See, honestly, I don't care. It's a Honda. They are not known for lemons. So what they want me to do is drive the car until I use up the current tank of fuel, then put mid-premium fuel in for the next tank. Oooooookaaaaay.......? I just wanted my car so I was not in any state to be quizzing him, but John said exactly what I was thinking (oh, and I forgot to mention that the majority of the conversation about my car took place towards John's head - the first minute he did it, I started to smirk & it was all I could do not to bust out laughing. so transparent!) - back to what I was thinking: "So why didn't you siphon out the fuel?" (if said fuel was the culprit and problem? and it took some stammering & jumping around, first referencing that I'd already paid for the fuel - hello, if I bought a really nice Wusthof knife, and accidentally jammed it into my thigh? I don't care about the fact I bought the knife, it's in my leg & it shouldn't be, let's take it out! - and then he finally had to say the fuel was not harming my car. Excellent, and I have a witness. I suspect he called Iowa to discuss ethanol fuel, because - duh - everybody in Iowa drives on ethanol. Long story summed up: got my car, only had to pay for the exorbitantly-priced services I'd already agreed to, and now I am turning over the Car Maintenance portion of this marriage over to James. Yay!
Driving a Ford-150 pickup truck was both nerve-wracking & fun. I am too confident sometimes about things, which is usually followed by terror flashes that in my confidence I'm missing something really basic & apparent. Like will the back end of this giant pickup go crazily skidding across another lane of traffic when I go around the fountain circle? YIKES! (It doesn't, at least not at 35 mph) I felt self-conscious because John was right in front of me, and it's his truck. I also didn't feel terribly secure in knowing where I was in the lane, like centered vs. hugging one side or the other, because a Civic is lower to the ground & I'm used to it's size. But it definitely was fun to drive & be up high, I see why everybody buys SUV's, it's just unfortunate they're such gas guzzlers and oh say killer vehicles if they hit someone in oh say a Civic.
Well, hey, it's Saturday, Princess Day of the Week, and I'm gonna enjoy some hot wings that my sweetie brought be back from Hooters. Love the wings, think the dining-in experience is sorta stupid. At least they don't pretend to be a family restaurant. Honesty is scarce in America, especially at a car dealership.
posted by PlazaJen, 8:15 AM
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