Two Outta Three Ain't Bad

As we drove to the local car dealerships for our Day of Hell, I told Dr. J I had three goals:

1. Drive home a new vehicle at the conclusion
2. Not feel like I had been ass-phucked at the end of the experience
3. Still be speaking to Dr. J afterwards

Two outta of the three goals were achieved. Wanna guess which was not???????

The first one . . . was not. BUT we made progress. And we even have a new dark horse in the mix, thanks to a chance meeting with the sales manager at the Toyo.ta dealership, who recognized us from church. Yippee!!! He gave us an additional option that we had not previously considered, and is on the lookout for end of the month rebates, financing options, and specials since we can wait a couple of weeks (but barely . . . seriously, the sounds being emitted by our shit-mobile on the way to pick up Lil Pumpkin were frightening).

By the way . . . two funny moments happened during the day. The first at the H.onda dealer, who was giving me a hard time bout the numbers n' all that. He asked Dr. J what he did for a living, and he replied "massage therapist" (we knew if he learned what Dr. J did, any leverage Ms. J had gained up to this point would evaporate - I am sure he googl.ed his name the moment we were out the door, though). Second funny moment . . . at the Toy.ota dealer when the sales manager recognized us from church and introduced himself, Dr. J quipped, "hey, does this mean we get the Christian discount?!"

Honey, I love when you are NOT trying to be funny . . . nobody makes me laugh like you do ;o)

P.S. I love you for agreeing to drive the color of that Hon.da F.it we test drove, those I still have doubts about your ability to not get your ass kicked over the color! But it sure was purrrrty!

"Car Wars . . . "

[Cue mental image of that old "Saturday Night Live" sketch of Bill Murray as lounge singer, singing "Star Wars, nothing more than Star Wars . . . "]

Continuing on with my car saga, I called the dealership on Monday morning, as my girl was letting me know that she could only give me a few more miles of oomph before I had to deal with what I have come to refer to as "The Whole Wingnut Issue." Sigh.

Luckily, Chuck the Mechanic understood my description of the problem -- so I either I explained it really well or Chuck is a mind reader. Probably both. So Chuck tells me to bring 'er on in at the end of the day.

My car limped, and I mean limped, to the dealership. Fortunately, a kind soul took pity on me, picking me up at the dealership and safely depositing me at home. I did offer a small bribe, though, so maybe he was incentivized, lol?!

Eureka! This afternoon, while I was busy in a meeting that, while much was accomplished, just . . . wouldn't . . . end . . . the dealership actually called my cell phone FIVE TIMES to tell me that my girl had been fixed, and was ready for pickup! And the price was right, too, hee-hee!!! (Cheaper than a new VS bra, for those of you keeping tally!)

So I was reunited with my girl this afternoon. She purred. And I breathed a huge, happy, and contented sigh of relief!

Listen Dude, I HAVE to Get Home!

If I didn't have the opportunity to record some of the bizarre things that happen to me, I would begin to think I had imagined all of them. Take Thursday, for example . . .

I was in D.C. to attend a daylong training seminar. Though useful for my job (I suppose), it was long and boring. As I have a hard time sitting still, I was bouncing of the walls by the time we were paroled at 5:15 p.m. I hopped a cab back to my hotel to retrieve my luggage and car. Then I set out for home.

Or so I tried.

About 30 miles outside of D.C. my car just didn't feel right. This didn't make much sense, since I had the oil changed/fluids topped/yadda only 2 days prior. But the car was losing her juice, and finally I had to pull over to the side of the road. And pray. And quietly stew. And remind myself that this has happened before (last year, also in D.C. on a biz trip), and I survived that time, too. Only the previous time it wasn't dark out, or raining, and I DESPERATELY NEEDED TO GET HOME!!!

After a few minutes on the side of road, I managed to restart the car, and together we limped off an exit ramp and into a Sheetz station. It was already 7:10 p.m., and I was supposed to be fasting in advance of bloodwork scheduled for 7:00 a.m. the following day. But I hadn't eaten dinner yet. So after scarfing down something from Sheetz (I think better when I have food in my stomach), I spotted some "10 minute lube" place about a half-mile up the road.

By this time it's 7:30, and the place closed at 7:00 p.m. But alas, the lights were still on! I think that the mixture of desperation and sheer determination in my voice convinced the two guys still there at the shop to look under the hood. Of course, I am willing to also give some credit to the following: great hair, a tight sweater, and my considerable charm. Who knows what really convinced them? I didn't care!

After about 10 minutes of poking around, the 23 year old guy excitedly announces that there is a broken wingnut on the cable-thingy that holds the battery in place. He theorized that somebody, along the way, tightened the thing so much that it sorta snapped, and whomever screwed it up tried to gerry rig the thing in place with some pins (they actually looked like carpet staples). This meant that every time my car hit the slightest of bumps, the battery would detach a bit from the cable, which was resulting in the loss of complete power as I drove. [Now I am sure I am completely phucking up this explanation, but trust me, it made sense and was the truth]

So the 23 year old (now my hero) disappeared for a few minutes, and then returned with some sort of bolt/screw that he had ground down to a suitable size that would fake out my battery in the short term. He somehow secured the thing in place (there was no duct tape used, for any of you smart asses who may be wondering!) My hero refused to take any money, or charge me anything. I finally left a $20 bill (I only had $29 in cash on me, and needed $8 for the turnpike toll) for him on the desk near where he was cleaning up, and ran to my now purring vehicle.

I then managed to drive the next 225+ miles home without stopping once. This was amazing, considering my famous world's smallest bladder.

Of course, the trip home had two of its own bizarre details that should be shared, in order to properly frame the evening . . . at one point I had switched lanes, going from the fast to slow lane, Not 100 feet later did I spot a mattress in the fast lane. Whew -- close miss, eh?! I thought about how bad the driver who lost the mattress must have felt when that sucker flew off their ride!

And then, a few miles later and still in the slow lane, I suddenly had to swerve onto the shoulder, as there was ANOTHER mattress on the road, rolled up like a friggin' burrito! And just as quickly as I swerved onto the shoulder, I had to swerve back onto the road, so as to not become impaled on a road sign. In my rearview mirror I watched the tractor-trailer behind me pull a similar dance.

I rolled in around midnight, thankfully. Only to be up at 5:00 a.m. the following morning to haul ass out to Oakland for my labwork and procedure. My life . . . oi vey.

Bold Moves

First let me state 2 things:

(1) I love the Ford "Bold Moves" commercials . . . especially the one in which the attractive brunette pays for the drycleaning of the gorgeous man in the car behind her, and asks the clerk to give him her card. Very bold. Very cool. Makes me wish I was single, sometimes, just so I could steal that bold move.

(2) I love my Ford, and have had nothing but wonderful experiences with it. Until about a week ago.

That being said . . . I have been bitching about some loud, airplane engine-like noise my car has been making for over a week now. Had it to Midas AND the Ford Dealership, and no one knows why it's doing it. This is after shelling out $400+ in repairs less than a month ago, so vehicle passes inspection. Up until then, I have NEVER had a problem with my car, never spent more than the routine amount of money for oil changes and the occasional tire I ripped due to catching a curb here and there. And to think that I had been so happy when I made my FINAL car payment in November, LOL!

OF COURSE!

As I am driving home tonight, the rear wheels feel like they are sliding -- like I am skidding on ice -- only there is NO SNOW OR ICE on the road!

AAGGGGHHH!

It was downright dangerous -- I had to put on my flashers and do 30 in a 45 zone the last 5 miles of the trip.

After several panicky calls to Dr. J, I waited for him to come home and call AAA, and have my car towed to dealership. Then in morning he will drive me to airport to pick up a rental car, as I have meetings all over the place the next two days (the mileage reimbursement will likely cover the cost of me renting the car -- still, would have like to POCKET those funds myself!)

On top of everything else, I am friggin' tired to the bone.

I pride myself on being able to handle the numerous crisis that Life has thrown at me over the past several years. Not always well, but I do handle them, and quite efficiently.

But I can honestly say, CAR ISSUES are not one of those things I handle well. I suddenly turn into one of those weak, easily ruffled women when I am faced with a car crisis.

I wished I could have handled this like the Trophy Wife I aspire to be. But I suppose a Trophy Wife would have had a butler that she could have farmed out this whole frickin' issue to?! And we're not quite there yet, financially.

So as Dr. J followed my car as it was towed to the dealership, I made my own "Bold Move."

I took to my bathtub.