Tag: alternator

Conflicting Karma Continues

As some Reader’s may be aware July was a real fucker, but for those who don’t heres a quick summation.

My 10 year old plus Vehicle took a huge shit returning from a rather kick ass road trip. It was asshole of an Alternator so. Next day the Check Transmission light came on, after a waste of my time transmission was fixed. That didn’t happen, a part within the transmission “blew” (the Transmission Guy’s words interpret as you will), and We had to cancel a Birthday Road trip for my Wife.l. Thank Fuck for WARRANTIES! All good Now.

Meanwhile my Wife’s  10 year old Car was at the point where We weren’t going to put another fucking nickel into it. It be an utter waste to invest anymore money in a car that was showing its age, had some minor issues, and some mysterious electrical problem (Toyota Dealer Mechanics couldn’t figure out what exactly it was). We went online like assholes and discovered the electrical issues more than likely was the for warning of a Failing Fuel Pump. The Fuel Pump would cost $1,800 alone so it be $2,000 and change by the end of it for Labor, Taxes, and extraneous bullshit.

So my Wife felt unsafe driving her car anymore so it was the next step is trade this thing in before it takes a total shit on us leaving us out one car. It sucked like nothing else on this planet, it is a truly unique suck. Overtime you had to turn her car on you prayed it fucking start, and then while your driving the son of a bitch you were praying it wouldn’t break down for the last fucking time.

After We had to cancel my Wife’s awesome Birthday Road Trip do to emergency transmission issue reoccurrence. Luckily my Wife had already jumped on the new car train and thoroughly researched various cars she was interested in. And since she knew what she had a top 5 list we decided to check out Dealerships that had one, some or all of the her said choices.

Now to get to any actual real Dealership (Podunk Mitch’s Auto Super Sales holds no water whatsoever.) were all an hour away in the Shitty City. So off we went to check out some possible options for a new car for My Wife. The road to the Shitty City sucks King Kong Cock to drive on. Its currently 2 lanes of heavy traffic bumper to pumper type shit, but they are also doing what seems to be a 1,000 year construction project. This apparently never ending road work requires a wall of cement barricades be lined up like a poor man’s Great Wall preventing all traffic from turning right even say in an emergency attempt to avoid being hit by some jack ass driver.

With that fucking said about half way down the road to the Shitty City to go car shop for my Wife we were spectacularly hit by one of those previously mentioned Jack Ass Drivers.

As We were driving in the left lane next to the cement barriers that went on for fucking miles upon miles when I hear my Wife say something. Now it was;t what she said that got my attention it was the tone of voice she was using. It was the “Oh fuck this shit isn’t gonna be good” type of tone. So I looked over to see her looking over right before the Jack Ass Driver took the fucking rearview mirror of in an explosive fashion.

The Jack Ass Driver pulled into the median and we followed suit. For obvious safety reasons I exited through the Drivers Door to avoid the very real risk of getting plastered by any one of the millfucktillion speeding motherfuckers.

When my Wife got out god bless her she was rattled as the Snake, but overtly concerned about the overall well being of the Jack Ass that just side wiped the holy hell out of us. I scramble out of the drivers side like a baby calf being born and immediately go fucking Nuclear. I started screaming “WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?!”, “FUCK WHERE YOU DOING?!!”, and “YOU TOTALLY FUCKED UP OUR CAR WHAT THE FUCK?!”

It turned out the Jack Ass Driver was in fact a young girl about or around 17 or 18 who was driving her father’s fucking massive SUV so there was no damage to her vehicle not a single fucking scratch. She was quite upset as this was her first accident ever apparently.

Now this wasn’t my first accident by far, but man it was a doozy. The Girl had first hit the Drivers side rear quarter panel. Then her dad’s SUV scrapped across the rear driver’s side door shredding the god living shit out of it. Next the same deal with the driver’s door, and ending with the rearview mirror being completely amputated.

I contacted our insurance people, My Wife called the Cops, and the Girl was Calling Her Parents then Insurance company.

All the while all I could think was that while I did under  my anger I did feel bad for this girl it was totally fucked how different our realities were. For her she would return home shaken but safe, possibly have to pay her Dad back for the fucking hefty ticket, and perhaps lose her driving privileges for I dunno couple weeks to a month?!

Meanwhile for my Wife and I it meant whole lot more. It meant that this crappy kid driver (who was fucking with her phone more than not) had absolutely fucked us out of the last thing we had going (the trade in value) in the “Battle of the Old Ass Cars” because we could live without one, BUT that meant we still needed one safe and reliable car for work to pay the fucking bills.

We then spent the next fucking hour or so baking in the median while again trying not to get fucking killed by the mad ass drivers on the highway. Finally a fucking Cop shows the hell up. This dick gets both my Wife’s and the Girls licenses and announces we’re going to drive to the next exit to a gas station (if you decided not to show he had all the info needed to issue a warrant mind you), and sort things out because and I quote ‘We don’t want to get killed out here.” Now while that makes perfect fucking sense the reality of it is He knew it was dangerous. YET he had no fucking issue leaving us stranded out there for an hour. Fucking Cops.

We drove to the gas station where the Cop ticketed the Girl, the Girl’s goddamn parents show up, My Wife is way too nice, I continued  aggressively venting about how fucked up all this fucked up shit is, and we all went our separate ways.

In the End: We got my Wife a fucking AWESOME NEW CAR the next day, and (My Vehicle has remained issue free as well) thanks to the accident the Girl’s insurance cut us a check for couple thousand and change (plus we did manage to get some cash for the trade in but it barely beat the Junk Yard) so we end up coming out ahead. Can’t argue when life throws you a bone rather than a bastard.

Thanks for Reading, Les Sober.

(P.S. THIS IS THE LAST POST ABOUT FUCKING CARS.)

From Catastrophe Into Conundrum to Conclusion

A few posts back I mentioned My Car took a complete shit on me rendering it useless. I ended up getting it to a Garage where they replaced the Alternator so sucked, but no big deal. I then picked the Car up and drove the 2 hours back home. That should have been the end of the fucking story. Its My Car so it was far from being over.

A day after I get My Car home the goddamn CHECK TRANSMISSION Light starts blinking like an epileptic on Meth. I took it home, parked it, and waited for a chance to take it to my Home Town shop. I finally got My chance on Friday of that week, and I took it in.

The receptionist asked the obligatory “What can we do for you?”, and My Wife told here verbatim “The Check Transmission Light is Blinking so we brought it in.”

Now because it was around 2:30-3:00 pm they stated the obvious that the Car wouldn’t be gotten to until Monday. See I live in a Micro Podunk Town out in the Woods, and around here Mechanics (among many others) are Closed all Weekend.

I called the Shop late Monday afternoon to get a progress report if you will. The Receptionist said He (the Mechanic presumably) was playing catch up as best he could. Now I don’t know for sure but she kept saying “Him” as if they only had one Mechanic which would make sense around these parts. My confusion comes from the Fact that I’ve seen a couple of Mechanics who apparently work there, and its a 8 bay Garage. Who fucking knows  anyway.

I decided not to call Tuesday because the Mechanic obviously was over whelmed with work at the moment. Wednesday was the 4th of July so they were closed which again around here thats just par of the course.

I called them on Thursday, and still the Mechanic hadn’t had a chance to look at it. The receptionist did mention that the Mechanic had had a few free minutes, and was going to run some quick diagnostic test, BUT the machine he was going to use had a dead battery so that was the end of that.

She then let me know the Mechanic was working his ass off Monday, and Tuesday he was at “The Funeral”(this is a prime example of Mirco Town Life. I mean the Receptionist just assumed I knew the person or I at least knew who the hell they were, that they had in fact died, when the funeral was, and that I very well might be attending.), and Wednesday was a National Holiday. Point being its Shitty Timing.

Come Friday I call ONCE AGAIN, and the Receptionist tells me the Problem is the Transmission. WELL NO FUCKING SHIT SHERLOCK. My Wife told her exactly that when we dropped the fucking thing off A WEEK AGO YOU ASSHOLE. That wasn’t all though there was more bullshit coming.

The Bullshit I’m referring to is what the Receptionist tells me next. She tells me that “They” will do SOME Transmission work, BUT there are certain repairs they won’t touch with a ten foot fucking pole. And lucky Me My Car had one of the issues “They” wouldn’t fuck with.

She then refers me to a Shop a few towns over about 45 minutes away that they’ve had a long and extensive relationship Blah Blah fucking Blah. The problem is once again its Friday afternoon so My Wife was working and by the time she got off the Transmission Shop would be closed. And once again we found that the Transmission Shop was CLOSED all weekend.

I parked my Car at a near by piece of property owned by a Family Member. I didn’t want to drive the fucker because I didn’t want to exacerbate the issue just like you wouldn’t want to aggravate an injury.

Come Monday I drove my Car to the Transmission Shop. We walked in the office to find no one there. After standing there for 10 minutes like an Asshole a Shop Mechanic popped in to say the Office Guy is out test driving a customer’s car and will be back soon. This pissed me off to the point I went outside for a smoke to avoid acting like a real dick.

As I finished my smoke a greasy looking guy pulls in, and I assume this is this MIA front desk dude. As I’m walking back the office the Guy calls to me. I walk over and he asks me whats up, and I precede to tell him my transmission light was on I took it in to “I’m not mention their actual name” Shop and they said they wouldn’t do the needed repair so they sent me here.

This asshole looks me dead in they eye and says “We don’t work on Transmissions.” WHAT THE FUCK, YOU OWN A TRANSMISSION ONLY SHOP SO PARDON FUCKING ME??!!! I again feel a over whelming rage coming over me so I told him my Wife was in the office.

We went in and apparently there was a possible issue with the type of Transmission my car had.This is what had led to the Odd statement made by the Greasy Guy, BUT IN REALITY My car had a absolutely STANDARD TRANSMISSION so YEAH THEY COULD FIX IT.

Why the Greasy Guy jumped the diagnostic gun I have not a fucking clue.

I left the car there where the Greasy Guy would run further diagnostics and a drive it to see 1st hand what was going on. What lowered my blood pressure was when the Greasy Guy said he’d do the diagnostics for free. That saved me $90-$120 right there.

Later that Morning The Greasy Guy called me. He told me he couldn’t get an exact pin point on the problem with the Diagnostic Machines so He was going to have to remove the Transmission and “Tinker with it” and take a look.

He then told me how much he charged for this and it stopped me in my tracks because the additional charge was utterly going to fuck up my financial set up as it were. I got lucky again when he informed me that that money WOULDN’T be an ADDITIONAL COST as it would be put words the price of the repair.

I talked to the Greasy Guy Tuesday who said he had NO IDEA who the hell I drove my Car to his shop. See once he removed the Transmission, and opened it up a shit ton of its parts fell the fuck out all over the garage floor. The Transmission was THRASHED.

He said he could rebuild it, and that would fix any and all Transmission issues. I called my Wife to confer. My Wife and I had been spending our free time wondering if it could be repaired or did it need to be replaced all together. At the same time we were playing the “Price of Repair Vs. Getting a New Car in the Battle of Whats The Best Financial Strategy.

I asked The Greasy Guy if he did do the repairs or whatever would the car be reliable (in all due favor its a Older Car) or would investing the money in a New Car be a better Idea. No one wants to make the mistake of holding on to an aging car and end up dumping way too much money into its ongoing list go repairs.

The Greasy Guy said outside of the shitty Transmission that the car was in great shape, and would be good car for quite awhile on. I then authorized him to repair it, and He said he’d be in touch.

I waited but didn’t hear shit Wednesday and din’t bother calling either.

I called The Greasy Guy Today and he reported that the Transmission had been rebuilt, reinstalled, BUT the Mechanic working on it gave it a test drive and had heard an unusual noise. The Greasy Guy was going to test drive it himself, and then put it back up on a lift to take a look. He said he’d be in touch in a couple of hours.

At this point in the game I was loosing my fucking mind. WHAT could possibly be the Problem now? Its been over 2 weeks total I’ve not had my car and Our Micro Town doesn’t have Public Transportation in any form whatsoever, No Taxi or Professional Car Services, and No Uber so without my car I’ve been isolated out at the Lake. All I can say is CABIN FEVOR IS VERY FUCKING REAL.

The Greasy Guy called back an hour or so later to tell me everything had been sorted out and that I could pick up my Car tomorrow anytime after 10:00am.

I couldn’t be Happier.

Thanks for Reading,

  Les Sober