Tuesday, February 2, 2010

Car Gods Smite Me

There is something wrong with me, or rather there is something wrong with me and cars. You see somehow in the past three years I have managed to go through eight tires on three different cars. I even managed somehow to crack a wheel well something that the car fix it people assure me is virtually impossible. And this last incident that happened Friday brought me to sobbing tears. Let me explain.

I come from Michigan, a state of “car people”. Everyone and I assure you almost EVERYONE knows alot about cars but me, well, lets just say I didn’t bother learning, I had people. My dad is amazing with cars, as in A-MAZZZZZZZZ-ing with them so I got spoiled. I had never been to a fix it place, I had never even purchased a car, my father would always just get things done. That was the way it was and I LOVED it!!

Even after I moved out and went to college in Pittsburgh I did not worry about my car. Every single time I came home to visit he would get everything I needed done. The tires would get rotated, the oil got changed and any problem got fixed before it ever became too much of a problem. It was like magic and I miss it. My dad he is just the best dad in the world!

Ever since I moved to LALA land things have been really hard. I have tried to fill in the holes and take care of my cars myself but let’s just face it I could decorate the hell out of your house but I don’t think I will ever be able to understand cars like my dad could.

Ever since I met Mr. Rogue and fell in love I realized that he has MANY of the qualities of my dad, someone I adore, and I have heard that women tend to be attracted to men like their fathers. In this I am blessed with the best husband ever. The only tinsy tiny problem is that Mr. Rogue is bad with cars too. Now don’t get me wrong NO ONE could be as bad as me, but he just does not do it like daddy did.

Which brings us to Friday, I will still deathly ill but Mr. Rogue suggested sushi and I just could not resist that sirens call. I popped two day quill and we were off in my new car. I had the radio pretty loud when after about a mile Mr. Rogue reaches over and turns down the volume.

Mr. Rogue: “What is that sound?”
Me: “What sound.”
Mr. Rogue: “I think you have a flat tire.”

Needless to say I pulled over and there was a “discussion” about how could I not know my tire was flat, and how long had that tire is low light on my dash been on (three months) and why hadn’t I gotten it looked at, which led to me rationalizing that I thought the light came on because I went skiing and put snow chains on and how I HAD gotten it checked but that everything then was fine. And how I rationalized that the chains had triggered the sensor and that I just needed to get the sensor deactivated and that well I just hadn’t gotten around to that with the birds and the cooking luring all my free time away. Then he pointed out that this is the MILLIONTH tire that I have flattened which is about the point when I started to cry. So now, thanks to the air pump, we are slowly limping our way home, tears and snot are running down my face. Mr. Rogue is trying to make light of the situation and I am STILL SICK AND HUNGRY and now MISERABLE.

At the end of the day we made it home ok. Mr. Rogue drove me to sushi where I preceded to sooth my wounded soul with Salmon and Seared Ahi Tuna with a few glasses of wine.

You would figure that my misery would be over but we took the car to the tire shop the next day, the same place where we get all our tires, and the guy pulls up our name and giggles, ACTUALLY GIGGLES, and says “you sure give us a lot of business”. Then the conversation between the two males behind the desk and my husband starts about how women shouldn’t drive cars and how their wives do the same thing.

And I am jumping up and down arms waving around screaming I AM STANDING RIGHT HERE!!!!!

I got my car back today with two new tires covered by a special guarantee; seems like if I pop these puppies then the tire company will replace them for free. Boy they sure picked the wrong girl to guarantee.


Ivy said...

Oh no! First the mud and now this! :-)

paul peggy zeus said...

Yep, yep, yep. I have to agree on all counts - especially about how wonderful your dad is. I am super duper spoiled rotten and never ever have to think of a thing about cars, tires, oil, rotating bullshit and I couldn't be more appreciated of that man of mine!

So, since both you and your honey are not car people, I would put things on the calendar, when to get oil changes, how often to rotate tires, brake fluid checks, radiator coolant and all the other regular maintenance crap. That way, your computer will remind you when it's time and you can, once again, concentrate on the finer points in life.... See your car manual for the details for your car - it has a maintenance schedule. :-)

lilmansworld said...

Consider yourself lucky, in terms of tires! Before I moved out of MI the first time I was in 3 accidents within a months time. All the assholes hit me!!!!

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