On 88% of all weekends in any given year, I am perfectly happy not to leave the confines of Supergenius HQ. I have hermit-tendencies and I’m more than willing to indulge those tendencies. However, all that changes when the hermitude is forced upon me rather than something I freely choose. When it’s forced upon me by inconsiderate, unprofessional, asshole mechanics, I go a little crazy.
Friday morning at 9 a.m., I dropped my beloved Ruby off at the local Tires Plus to get a tune-up. She’s been having this habit of not wanting to start. Plus, she leans to one side and can be kind of bouncy. You know, standard spark plugs and suspension kind of work. When I left Ruby in the arms of another I was under the impression that I was going to get all that stuff fixed and an oil change.
Apparently, the dopes at Tires Plus were under a wholly different impression despite what the notes on my order said. Since I often have a tendency to nag car repair shops, I decided I would let these people do their work and call me when it was complete. Because I am not adept at car repairs, I had no idea how long this would take. So when I didn’t get a call at all on Friday, I figured Ruby had the kind of repairs that took a long time. When Saturday passed with nary a call, I started to worry.
So worried was I that I woke up at the crack of 6:30 a.m. this morning anxious as all get out to call and see how my Rubes was doing. The shop opened at 9 a.m., I called at 9:03. I like to show a little restraint.
As you can imagine, this does not end happily. I discovered, upon calling, that they didn’t fix Ruby. At all. They changed her oil and that’s it. Oh, and they forgot to call me. I left my car with them for 48 hours and they spent, what? 15 minutes on her.
Furious doesn’t even come close to describing the amount of anger I harbor. After haggling on the phone with Dan from Shakopee Tires Plus, I had decided to let them have a crack at fixing the fucking truck. However, after hanging up I decided I was too angry to actually give them any more of my money.
When I get angry, I am usually a leaking, crying, yelling mess. It’s like I have so much negative emotion inside of me it can’t figure out the best way to escape, so it chooses all the routes at once.
It took every bit of strength and courage I had to go down to that shop and get my truck. I also had to work against every atom of Minnesota Nice in my body not to apologize for being angry and picking up my truck even though I had just said I wanted it fixed. I am proud to say that the word sorry never escaped my lips while I was there. In fact, I even said, “I’m very angry and doing my best not to take it out on you.”
The only thing I say that is positive about this experience? Dan was ashamed by what happened. He didn’t offer up any excuses and only apologized for he said was “inexcusable.” And he didn’t make me pay for the oil change. Which was nice, but Ruby’s still not fixed so it was the VERY VERY least they could do. Literally.
Nothing makes me feel more like a helpless, hapless woman than car repairs. I hate it. HATE IT with a passion. And this is the exact reason why.