I LOVE my car, Flounder. I seriously have no desire to replace it until absolutely necessary. Flounder and I met the fall of my senior year in high school when he became my early graduation gift. I was excited because a. It was a Jetta b. I liked the color and c. It was not the Intrepid I had been driving for the past 2 and half years that smelled like cross country funk (from my bro) and who's paint shed if you tried to wash it. I loved this car and I still do and even at 8 years old it still runs pretty well.
This is not Flounder but merely a distant cousin. I have zero photos of my car on my computer. Is that weird?
Except for last week. Then? It did not run well at all because it wasn't running. I know very little about cars. I know basics like how to check the oil, where to find my spare, how to call AAA, and when to call in a professional. So the other day when my car wouldn't start I thought it was a simple battery problem. Oh how I was wrong. So I called Triple A who came out and charged my battery. But the man (he never told me his name...) was concerned because he charged my battery really quick which apparently meant that something weird was going on. I assured him as he left that I was heading right over the car place to take it in. Which I was prepared to do had my car not died again. Frustration was mounting, the heat was stifling, and the skies were growing black. So I called a friend to jump off my car thinking surely it would be enough.
The first jump worked long enough to turn the car on then bam- nothing. The second jump (charged for the duration of Nicki Minaj's SuperBass) let me roll down the windows. I felt like crying (which I may have done over the phone to my dad because the windows were rolled down and it was going to rain gosh darn it!). I had zero clue what was going on but considering the car dealership is located over a rather large bridge, I decided that maybe risking the drive myself wasnt worth being stuck on the Cooper Rive Bridge at rush hour. So for the second time in an hour I called Triple A. That right there is a slice of humble pie. They were so concerned that the previous man who had come out called me back to make sure I was ok. Apparently calling twice in the hour isnt the norm. But I have to give it up for Triple A- they are always so nice and concerned about your safety. Although it is a little awkward to answer their service survey in front of the person working on your car. Just sayin.
Anyway, the tow finally arrived and the driver and I bonded over stupid car moments in our past as we drove little Flounder to the shop. Fun fact: I have never hit a moving object with my car. Nope, its always those dang curbs, poles, orange barrels (you see where this is going) that get me. Depth perception is not a strength. Thankfully the driver could not have been nicer and got me to the shop before they closed for the day. I simply gave them my keys and said "Please fix." and rode on home with a friend.
I always think car repairs take an incredible time so I was pretty excited when they at least called me the next morning. Seriously, I was like some desperate girl waiting by the phone for her crush to call, if that crush were to be Greg from the service department (we're on a first name basis). But that excitement when the phone rang was short lived. I ran out of class where Greg told me everything wrong with my car.
G: Well your car won't start because we need to replace the fuse panel and the alternator cable. (This is obviously paraphrased).
Me: Well I would like my car to start so I guess we should fix that. (I've never heard of either of these things so I'm just going to go with his judgement.)
G: Also, all of your brakes are metal on metal.
Me: Oh. Guess we should fix that too. (I know enough to know that those are important, seeing as like to stop the car on occassion.)
G: And m'am, just how long has your check engine light been on?
Me: Uhhhh, ummmm, a while?
G: Well.... and then he lists all the things that are causing it. Apparently Flounder's emissions are a little off or something like that. Maybe he's just cranky.
Me: Well then, I had no idea.
G: But what I'm really worried about (oh, dear) is your timing belt. (Another thing I have never heard of!) I'll paraphrase but this is apparently something important in the car that starts to stretch at 80,000 miles and should be replaced around 90,000. I'm at 97,000 which makes mechanic-types shudder a little bit.
Me: Well Greg, let me call my dad and I'll call you right back.
I go back to class, take a breather and call my dad during the next break where I relay the news. Breaks were on the plan anyway so those are go for launch but we'll just take our chances with everything else (also I was probably not the most accurate at relaying Greg's advice so I had it him right it down for me.) Guess what Santa is bringing me this year? Yep, a timing belt!
I call Greg (where I just say "Its me again!") and give him the go-ahead and he tells me the car will be ready by 4. What? 4? It takes longer for some women to get their hair done and you can make my car start and give me new breaks? Well then go ahead by all means. Long story short, I got back over there (thanks to great friends who drove me around) and gave VW a ridiculous amount of money and got Flounder safely back in my possession. I wish I had a photo of his homecoming but its sort of weird to just take a picture of your car- people look at you funny.
This is all a very roundabout way of saying that things like this make me scared to be a big kid. Cars are important to get around yet I am (mostly) clueless about apparently vital car organs. My dad did try to teach me some basics when I started learning to drive but they always ended up with me crying. Don't worry it was all me. I also cried the first time I drove and the first time I drove with my mom and almost ran into a ditch. Crying- its what's for dinner. So even though I can be adult about many other things in my life- you know going to get a flu shot, buying books, documenting my belongings when we think there's going to be a hurricane but there really isnt (Irene!), I doubt I will ever be fully independent in managing my car. Good thing I have a dad and brother who get this kinda stuff. Some of us are just are meant to understand it all (gosh I really hope Flounder doesn't take this the wrong way... oh wait its a car and can't read).
So until next time (which will be soon since I have tests coming up) I'm off to go find more Harry Potter humor blogs (yeah not helping with the whole adult thing am I)....
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