Cars are a dicey thing.
You can baby them and also treat them like shit, depends on your habits.
But, even if you give the car nothing but TLC, it can still break down.
Such was the case with me and my car yesterday.
To be honest, I don’t shower the car with TLC, sadly my habits of vehicle maintenance are sorely lacking.
But you cannot pin the starter going out on me.
Much as you may want to.
Let me explain.
I come from a family of mechanics.
My dad is a master transmission mechanic.
My brothers and I grew up in his transmission shop.
Everyone is a fair mechanic.
Not sure why.
I mean, you can try to pin it on extreme ADD growing up, but its a tough fit.
I can do the easy stuff, oil changes and brakes, maybe even a sloppy tune up, but that is about it.
So I counter this combination of sloppy maintenance and weak repair skills by buying american and only models my father likes.
The reason for that is not to curry favor, but to make sure he will work on it should it break down.
Lets be honest, what most repair places want to charge is a God damned crime.
So having a master mechanic in the family is a good thing.
Especially for your finances.
My morning started out fairly well.
I had some items to take into the office that were too bulky and heavy to carry the quarter mile from the parking bunker.
So I drove down.
However, stopping by Starbucks for a few moments for coffee and an email check sounded good.
It was when trying to leave and get to the office that everything went to shit.
Turn the key, nothing.
Now, I know what a dead battery sounds like.
Multiple clicks and sad sounding weakness.
And I was getting nothing.
So, I called dad.
Sounds like the starter.
I called AAA.
They insisted on sending out a very nice Armenian guy named Moe to check the battery.
It took 20 minutes longer than they said, but I am in no position to bitch here.
And this was after I told them that my mechanic had said starter.
Moe had all the latest equipment.
He had a grand total of 3 diagnostic things hooked up to the battery.
A half hour later, he smiled a gap-toothed smile at me.
“Its your starter.”
Thank you Moe.
So Moe left, he was only in a small pick up truck, and not the tow truck I originally asked for.
55 minutes later, Ceasar showed up.
Watching a gifted tow truck operator work is a serious treat.
I was parked nose in, on a hill, at an angle, on a busy street.
Ceasar had me out of their in under 5 minutes.
Did I have him tow it to his shop? The one he recommended no less than 5 times?
I took it to dad’s house.
I’m negligent, I’m not stupid.
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