Car Sense

Did I tell you about my car?

The car we took to DC, Kate named it Denzel, was a rental.

A bland, gray, unembellished, base model Toyota Corolla. Bo-ring!

Instead of my zippy, behemoth, off-roading, 6-gear manual transmission Space Shuttle of a car (my divorce present to myself...instead of a Hummer which I was convinced would be too much on a variety of levels), we are traveling (however slowly) in a mundane, garden variety, can't-find-it-in-a-crowded-lot Corolla.

Not by choice, mind you. I was forced!

One day, about 4 days after having left the dealership following an oil change and some kind of frivolous check up, half of the so-called repairs of which were emphatically declined, as I drove to the pool, all the lights on my dashboard illuminated.

Christmas comes early in the interior of my car. Yay.

At the time, I was still comfortable talking with Scott (We'll get to that) and had called him to ask what could possibly be wrong that would make my seatbelt, airbag, VSC brake system, etc etc etc all come on at the same time.

Scott explained that cars are not run on individual fuses like our father's cars. Everything is computerized and connected. I'd need to take it to the dealership and have them perform a diagnostic (Cha-ching!) and have them tell me which of the myriad electrical thingies it could possibly be.

Where is my Dad when I need him?  This is not a job for Super Mom. This is a Dad's job. My Dad would have relished it.  Talking shop with the technician. Questioning why this doo-hickey is connected to that thing-a-ma-bob and why should we pay to disentangled them?

I delay calling until the first warm day of spring. It is 80 degrees and I roll up my windows and turn on the A/C as I cross the bridge.

Warm air.  Warm air blowing all throughout the car.

Not working.

I call the dealership and explain the dilemma - and practically blame them for leaving some kind of cap unsealed or connection loose. Assholes.

On Saturday, I roll into the dealership. I tell them I'll shop in the lovely outdoor mall down the street and to call me when they've recapped or reconnected whatever they failed to do last time, careless fools that they are.

I go off to have coffee and a few biscotti. And I wait.