Or: My Car Has Been in the Shop for a Week and I Am Not Coping Well
A week ago, my car stopped working*, rather abruptly and without much warning.*** It happily turned on, and happily changed gears, and happily refused to go any faster than two miles an hour.
* Was attacked by invisible space pirates and stolen from me by a tow truck.**
** This is what I tell people when they ask me what happened to my car. People should probably stop asking me what happened to my car.
*** Except for that terrible sound that it kept making that I was ignoring.
My car is very happy about being a non-working jerk.
So I called the automobile club, which is the club they let you pay to be in when you happen to have purchased a car. The automobile club, which calls itself AAA****, reluctantly agreed to tow my car exactly four miles before they would charge me a very silly amount of money per mile. I let them tow my car precisely three-point-seven-five miles and then called my car insurance people and had it towed (for free) seven more miles to the repair shop.
**** If adult entertainment is abbreviated as “XXX”, does “AAA” mean that I’m engaging in some form of wholesome adult automobile-related activities? This is today’s awkward thought.
This is not their real logo. In fact, for legal reasons, I’m probably talking about an imaginary company.
The first day was pretty rough.
There was much worrying and wringing of hands.
But then things started looking up.
And by “up,” I mean the dealership paid for a rental car for me because they were all out of loaners.
Then overwhelming feelings of guilt…overwhelmed me.*****
***** They overwhelmed my vocabulary.
The keys felt like betrayal in my hand…
But then the joys of an unfamiliar fancy car won me over.
Clearly my car love is a fickle, fickle thing. Mostly because I only have an AUX plug in in my car.
But even fancy technology and a super-charged air conditioner****** couldn’t fill the dark void in my heart left by the absence of my beloved car.
****** It’s the South. It’s already hot. Also I really love air conditioning. Captain Planet is not proud of me.
My face is not leaking, But my eyes are. Traitors.
Sorrow leads to anger. Anger leads to hate. Hate leads to writing angry letters to your car repair shop, and never delivering them.
It’s like the opposite of a ransom note. It’s an “I hate you and I’ll give you anything you want” note.
And finally, imaginary-letter-writing leads to a call from the car repair shop telling you that your car is probably ready to be picked up.*******
******* Yes. Obviously the first thing leads to the second thing. Don’t your imaginarily-written-letters make things happen?
This is the car repair guy I have been dealing with. Let’s call him Jim.
Jim is really not sure how to deal with me.
My heart filled with joy. It grew to three times its regular size********
******** Like the Grinch, but lots less green and fuzzy, and probably more medically concerning.
But then I got to the repair shop, and they tried to keep my car again.
THAT’S NOT A REAL THING, JIM.
Really, this is the story of why I’m never taking my car to a mechanic ever again.
Perpetual Plot Hole 
I know a good one. He lives in my house 😉
❤ and he's honest, too! You've clearly monopolized the one wholesome car-fixer in the galaxy…
…Think he'd fix my AC while we eat cookies and play board games upstairs? 😉
If they’re not sure how long it will take, you can be reasonably sure that they don’t yet know exactly how to fix it.
I think that their version of “fix it” always means “take it apart the slowest way possible, then say it’s broken and make me buy a new one.”
In response, I’m going to tell all future mechanics that I don’t know how long it will take for me to pay them.
When I say I like this blog, I like the story and the awesome pictures. I do not like that the evil car mechanic conspirators have stolen your car for who knows what crazy reason!
This happened to me once…
Technically the reason it got taken away was I crashed it and the guy who was fixing it was not an actual garage but a guy who drove a two truck and said he would fix it cheap…it was not cheap and it took 8 weeks!
Looking back I may have acted little bit rashly giving it to this man I only met once…
Why am I only realising this now!!
But if you’d given it to a real garage, then you wouldn’t have an amazing story to tell about the time your car was kidnapped and given back-alley surgery for 8 weeks straight!
THat’s what I tell myself anyway. “If I didn’t let the people at the first mechanic break my car, I’d never have driven a rental car around for a week on all sorts of adventures…”
Also, I hugged my car this morning. It missed me. And this may imply that I have mental problems.
That is very true…
If I did more sensible things I would have far fewer stories…I like having stories!
I am sure it did miss you, they do you know! Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise!
I hugged my old car before I sold it! I felt very guilty about the whole thing!
The fangs ARE AWESOME!
Thanks! They come out especially for sexists and mechanics who are trying to overcharge me.
OH no! You have a problem with your car again? Or be honest, you wanted to write this post because you secretly got addicted to drawing cars? 😉 Haha! I hope yoou car ‘gets well’ soon. xoxo
Honestly, my life in recent times has been like an elaborate car-doodling quest. (But they ARE getting slightly more car-shaped, at least…I hope…). Anyhoo, the oil change people broke my transmission, which is really surprising, because even I can change my own oil, and I can clearly barely get dressed in the morning.
It’s all better now though. Even the warp speed. 🙂
P.S. – <3!
So glad you got a chance to blog! Missed it! Sorry for your car! Been there! Happy car trails from here in out!!!