I woke up this morning feeling totally refreshed, after having fallen asleep at 10:45pm last night. I took a shower, got dressed, put on my makeup and headed out the door. Things were going well.
Then I got down to my garage and there it was. My Dodge Grand Caravan chariot awaited me and all of last night’s memories came flooding back.
Now, I bet you’re thinking, “Wait! Didn’t you get a super sexy, sporty new car?” Why, yes! Yes I did! However, things took a turn for the worse yesterday.
After I was leaving the grocery store yesterday after work, I turned my car on and drove off. Then I get about 200 feet from my driveway when my car stalls and the engine turns off. So I’m a sitting duck in the middle of the road with a car that won’t freaking move!! My car had power, but the engine wouldn’t turn on.
It’s a push start car, so I really couldn’t do anything but throw on my hazards and keep pressing the damn button on and off. It took me about three minutes to get the engine to turn back on, but that was the longest three minutes of my life.
A bit shaken, but mostly uberly perturbed, I get right in front of my building’s garage door and the stupid car does it again!
This is when I lose it.
A small tidbit about me is that if I’m ever mad or frustrated to the point of no return, I just break down and cry. Like full-on Kim-Kardashian-cry-face cry. It’s a problem and I’m looking into it, I promise.
So, let me just paint this picture for you: the car is making weird noises and smells weird — kind of like burnt up hopes and dreams of my BRAND NEW CAR!! Anyway, I’m sitting in the driver’s seat bawling my bloody eyes out, pushing the start button relentlessly.
THANK GOD it started and I got it to my spot in one piece (I use the definition of ‘one piece’ loosely) and no one had to witness the raccoon look that I was sporting.
Of course, this is when I rip my cell phone out of my tote and call, not a tow truck, not the dealership/mechanic, but my mother. Because if anyone can fix things, she can.
I’ll admit, since this isn’t exactly the first time that I’ve called her bawling my eyes out, she knew exactly how to act and went into, what I can only describe as “Mom Mode,” and started planning tow trucks and next steps for taking it to the dealership to get it fixed under warranty.
After my meltdown, I put my big girl panties on and decided that I would try driving it over to the dealership because my Google Maps said it was only about two miles away.
Things finally started going my way and my car made it without stalling all of those 2.3 miles to the dealership.
I had called ahead and told the lengthy story to the poor soul that was the service guy, so they were expecting me. When I got there, they were more than polite, but I figured that was because I have only had this car for a month before problems started and I’m sure there were also some leftover remnants of my meltdown still on my face. Nothing makes a guy more timid and compliant than the feeling that he might get the brunt of an overly-frustrated, crying girl.
To be fair to my car, the mechanic thinks that it just needs a software update because I’m “basically driving a computer, rather than a car” and that the problem may not necessarily lie completely in actual engine of the car.
As if my day hadn’t already been frustrating enough, he says that the only loaner car they have available is a Dodge Grand Caravan.
Talk about adding insult to injury…
All I have to say is thank goodness for warranties, mechanics and moms.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to either go for an extra long yoga sesh or drink an extra large iced soy chai to de-stress…or maybe both.
Until next time,
***Status update 12:30pm: I just picked up my car and it looks like it was a software update! She’s all fixed! Thelma and Louise (me and the car) ride again!***