Have you heard all of the ads for Chevrolet's no finance deals good through the end of the month?
I got excited for a minute. I drive a 2002 S-10 pick up truck. It's been a good little soldier and I've only driven it 28,000 miles-ish. But I'm getting tired of not being able to take more than one passenger and even then its kind of a pain. If I pick you up at the airport, you'd better hope it's a sunny day, 'cause your luggage is going in the bed of the truck.
I like the idea of an HHR and I think that will probably be my next car. I had a grand time on the Web site last night choosing colors and fun stuff. That fun aside, at the end of the night I decided that I'd be better off keeping the truck. I don't need to add another payment to my life. And it would be crazy to buy a car and a house in the same year. Right?
So, dear readers, what do we think happened on the way to work this morning? A horrible racket started blasting from under the hood.
Ball bearings in a blender.
A blender with a metal cup.
It made the ride to work interesting and I was getting lots of looks. Too many to put my make up on at lights, my usual routine.
When I got to work I called the specialized repair place across the street.
Me: Hi, my name is Nora and I work across the street, do you work on anything besides Jaguars?
Nice Man: We also work on Land Rovers.
Me: [laughing] Well, my S-10 pickup truck would really bring down the neighborhood. [keep in mind the repair place is next to a homeless day shelter, a block from one of the jails and there is a backhoe and gobs of road equipment parked in the middle of the street].
Nice Man: [big laughter] Oh, yeah an S-10 in my lot would be the death of the place.
Me: Any suggestions of where to take it [the dealership in my neighborhood closed a few months ago]?
Nice Man: My mechanic drives an S-10, come on over and he'll look at it.
I got on line looking for reports about the business and everything I found was positive. So after a committee meeting about nothing (did I say that out loud?) I drove across the street. The truck was so loud that I swear the road construction stopped and I saw one of the construction workers make the sign of the cross. I was laughing so hard that I was crying. I popped the hood and three of us looked at the engine bugged eyed with our hands over our ears. The mechanic signed for me to turn it off so would could talk.
Nice Mechanic: Clearly there is a problem
Me: [Nodding me head yes, with a 'do ya think!' look on my face]
Nice Mechanic to Nice Man: I'd like to explore it.
Nice Man to Me: We'll work on it.
Me: [feeling like I'd been given a blessing by the Pope] Yes, thanks.
I left the key and walked back to work, which should have been a straight shot but I had to walk around trenches in the road and backhoes.
An hour later my cell phone rang.
Nice Man: Hi, can you come over here? We need to see you.
Me: Okay [thinking this can't be good].
I walked back across the mine field of the street.
Once again we gathered around the noisy truck, on this time it was in the garage, in a bay so we got the pleasure of some echo. On the work bench next to the truck was a big belt. I was hopeful for a second...belts are easy to replace, right? My relief was short lived. The mechanic had taken the belt off to narrow down the problem and isolate the noise to the motor.
So, I'm looking at a big repair.
My only question is: How did the truck know that I was thinking about trading it in? I feel like I'm being punished - I only cheated in my mind.