When Slamming Your Car Into Someone's Bumper Is a Good Idea

I have been driving a rental this week after my new (to me) car had to have some work done on it.

First of all, let me just advise the first time callers, as well as remind the long time listeners that my last car was a dearly beloved 10 year old Toyota Corolla with nearly 200K miles on it. I bought it from a rental car company. No hassle, no frills. No floor mats.

On Monday, when I called to let the dealership know that I needed service, they bent over backwards to make sure I was ok, not freaking out and overall, just mildly annoyed. (We had suspected a slight problem when we bought the car, so we figured this was coming.)

A tow truck was called (although one wasn’t really necessary). The tow truck driver, for reals, was there in 20 minutes.

I get to the dealership, where I am offered coffee, water, and chilled virgin ovaries. I was placed in a rental car in 5 minutes and sent on my merry way.

The rental car, the 2008 model of my car, is a space-age rocket ship.

It senses my mere presence, detects what moon it is and has 8.2 million horses. It has advised that I will name my first child, a girl, Sarah Marie. My cat Yoda, she is a hermaphrodite. The real shooter WAS on the grassy knoll while Oswald was merely a pawn, AND on top of all that, it has leather seats!

I received a call later that day from the service manager who advised that it was the caliper, (which I totally knew) and that the caliper, rotors and pads for the rear brakes would all be replaced. He apologized for the inconvenience and threw in an oil change which was nearly due. I, against my original best judgment (and loudly voiced opinions which usually end up being completely wrong), had bought the extended warranty, but rotors and pads aren’t a part of the warranty. I asked the manager if there would be any cost for these repairs and he quickly responded, “Oh, no, ma’am”. I said that I just needed to check, because I didn’t want to be surprised and have to argue with them later. He quickly said, “oh, ma’am, I will never give you a reason to complain”.

So…. The next day around 4:30, I hadn’t heard from the dealership. Knowing the time it would take, in rush hour, to drive to the dealership, I called to check on the repairs. I spoke with unknown positioned, Dana. After giving her just my name, she says “I am sorry” approximately 27 times for not calling sooner. Folks, I am in a rental spaceship that tells me how many miles it is to Mars and what freeway to take. I am doing just fine, Dana. I was just calling because I was curious if I have to return the rocket or if I could drive to Jupiter this fine evening! She explains that it will be another day, says “I’m sorry” 21 more times and asks if there is anything she can do for me. Um….tell the rental to stop telekinetically communicating with the neighborhood cats, I guess. Although them fanning me on my walk to the car – Sweet.

Today, I receive a voicemail from the sweetest kid in the world, advising me that my car is ready and to please call and advise when I will be picking it up so they can award me with Ms. Most Beautiful Car Owner of the World. Me, little ole Fianna!

I am a bit frightened to pick up the car tomorrow. I am wondering if there will be 17 studly men waiting to walk me to it, a pony sitting in the backseat and 10 Wii’s in the trunk.

Lesson to be learned: Buy the absolute cheapest, used car a luxury car dealer has on the lot. You will be treated better than Prince Charles in a gay bar. Wait, I am not sure what that means.