Yeah, You Never Know, Do Ya.

(Or, Why My Brain Is Twisted Into A Pretzel)



10:00 this morning, I am awakened from a sound and well-earned sleep by the warbling of my cell phone. The number looks vaguely familiar, so that I am tempted not to answer it, but at the same time I sleepily think "well, it could be important."



"Gladys? Gladys, this is Rick Schnorfenborfer--from Schnorfenborfer Used Auto?"



Uh-oh.

"Oh, hi," I mumble--keep in mind, I don't wake up well.



"You know, you were supposed to start making those payments on the balance of what you owe on the car back in July, and we never heard from you...."



A word of explanation may be in order. The car salesman worked out a deal with us--we couldn't come up with what they wanted for a down payment, but they agreed to let us make payments every week til we'd paid off the difference. Of course, we started having issues with the car immediately, and they were fine with us not paying til everything was fixed...Well, everything (from OUR perspective!) still isn't fixed.



"Um...yeah, sure, I understand," I told him... "It's just that right at the moment it's in the shop for a new rear differential."



Whereupon he uttered what is now, in my opinion, the Ultimate Used-Car Salesman Line Of All Time:



"Yeah...that's the problem when you buy used--you never know what's gonna happen."



Um, HELLO??? We bought it from YOU!!! jackass... "Yeah...well...Lemme talk to my guy about it, and we'll take care of it." Someday. Maybe. But don't hold your breath, okay?



What makes it even WORSE:



When they did the repairs, I specifically put on the list the noise it was making--the one that turned out to be the rear diff. The mechanic even SAID, when LJ mentioned it to him, "yeah, that sounds like it's probably the rear differential." But Rick--the guy who called--specifically crossed that off the list of things for the mechanic to check out--along with the front brakes, which we ALSO ended up having to replace.



Needless to say, LJ was NOT amused when I told him this story.



We're supposedly getting the truck back Wednesday or so; I can't wait. Right now it's disrupting our home life--LJ's spent three or four nights at his parents' house, simply because he can't get a ride home--and I'm having to walk all over creation and back because apparently the Pepsi truck doesn't stop in the 'hood. (Seriously. The woman at the liquor store told me the Pepsi truck hasn't been through in weeks, and nobody in the neighborhood has Pepsi to speak of. I finally found a 2-liter in a little hole-in-the-wall store populated by SERIOUS thugs, but as I told the woman at the liquor store, "When everyone at my job and in my family told me I was crazy to move into this neighborhood, I certainly didn't think the main hardship was gonna be that I couldn't get my Pepsi!!!")



So what's the moral of the story today, boys and girls?



"When you buy used, you never know what's gonna happen."