Curse you Karl Benz! A pox upon you, Henry Ford! And the same to you Mr. Honda-inventor guy! And to you, Mr. Yug…well, you’ve had it bad enough already. Without you and your kind we could all still be enjoying leisurely carriage rides through the park, and pleasent trots to our place of employment. There would be peace in the middles east for oil wouldn’t matter, and we could solve our dilapitated means of locomotion problems with a bullet instead of a credit card. The horse would still be king! The horse-less carriage would be a whimsical novelty left only to the snobby elite, who would be mocked behind their backs for their namby-pamby ways anyhow.
Guess what? I had some car trouble today. Or rather, cars trouble. The last two weeks have seen the Jeeps’ brakes go from a subtle audible whine, to the blood curdling shreik of Janis Joplin being boiled in hot oil, to the sound of jagged rocks being purred in a blender. Not to mention, the front two tires are as bald as Dick Vitale. Thank goodness it’s the dry season. But at least I could alway rely on the Ol’ Tercy. Sound Japanese engineering, low miles. Sure, not much to look at, but neither was Willie McGee, and no one said he wasn’t good to have around. But today, even the Tercel let me down.
I had noticed a slight clicking sound over the past couple of weeks, but hadn’t thought much of it. I had heard it before a couple of years ago, but it turned out to be nothing more than a loose spark plug. I actually checked the plugs before leaving for work this morning, but couldn’t do a real good job since the wires were still on. I figured I’d give them a more thorough once over after work today. Guess I’ll think twice next time. As I entered the freeway I became aware that the noise had suddenly grown much louder. Now it sounded like a bicycle with a baseball card stuck in the spokes…a bicycle on steroids and a baseball card on HGH. Kind of like a gigantic lawnmower that was ideling. I managed to get to work and I checked the oil. Bone dry. The very, very, little, itty bitty tip of the dip stick was black, the rest was clean as a whistle. I hadn’t noticed any leaks before, why was there suddenly no oil? I don’t know much (read, anything) about cars, but I do know this: no oil = oh crap. I had a couple more auto-literate coworkers take a look at it, and one of them said, “Don’t drive this car anymore.” Great.
The Jeep goes in for new brakes tomorrow. The Tercel was supposed to go into the shop tonight. Supposed to. I also hate tow truck companies now.
I called Geico at about 4 PM, to have the Tercy towed. It’ll be about an hour. No big surprise there. So I wait. My cell phone had died, so I gave them my work number in case the tow truck needed to reach me. While waiting, I turned on the auxilary power to the car, and charged my phone up a bit. I then called the tow truck company to give them the new contact number. It’s about 4:45 at this point. After waiting on hold for about five minutes, I was disconnected. I called back, had to talk to three different people, and was put on hold again until one of the ladies game back and said that no trucks had been dispatched.
“What? I called almost an hour ago, and was told a truck was on the way.”
“Well, we never received a call from Geico.”
“Are you sure? No dispatches to Westwind Blvd?”
“No. Would you like to talk to one of the drivers.”
[Waiting on hold for another five minutes, listening to the sultry sounds of KJZY]
“They told Geico that there were no trucks available at that time?”
“So, there aren’t any trucks available.”
“There still aren’t?”
“No, I’m sorry.”
“What company is this?”
“Ok, thanks. Bye.”
First, there was no call, then there was, but there were no available trucks? Hmmmmmm. Here I was waiting outside in 90 plus degree heat waiting for a truck that was never coming because some driver with an eigth grade education didn’t feel like taking another call after saying he would because it was just too dang hot. Of course, I have no idea if this is exactly what has taken place, but I’m sure it is. Anyway, long story longer, Jen had to make a second trip out to my work to get me (she had come out earlier to get me, because I couldn’t get a hold of her to tell her the tow truck was going to take an hour to get to me), the Tercel is still at work, and I should’ve taken the bus to work. Or a horse. We should all be riding horses. Actually, I hate horses too, but that’s a story for another day.