fortunately, i doubt he can work his way around a keyboard

August 5

This photograph has been sitting on my desktop at home since MAY.

I hope you all give a shit about my car troubles, because you might want to skip this one if you don't. Also, I apologize ahead of time for any misuse of "break/brake"

My car is killing me. KILLING ME. Two weeks ago, my radio stopped working. I had to drive to the dealer to have them pop it off and replace a fuse. Then, last week, I drove to the gym, and I tried to park my car. TRIED to park it. See? Tried. Operative word. It wouldn't come out of park. To make a long story short, an dirty mulleted off-duty tow truck guy, driving an 1983 Grand Marquis and looking like a roadie from the Marshall Tucker Band from about the same year as his car came to the gym parking lot and bullied it out of park (please note: a lot of things happened in between--Nicole was there with me, fortunately, because I had no cell phone) and at the same time, asked me questions specifically aimed at making me feel stupid. Example:
Mullet: Once you got the car out of park, into drive, WHY'D YOU PUT IT BACK INTO PARK?? (I managed to wrest it out of STUCK and moved the car from the street to the parking lot, then it got stuck again)
Me: What in the history of driving would ever make me think that my car WASN'T going to go into reverse when I required it to? I mean, is that something I should always ANTICIPATE? That my car MIGHT get stuck in park? Should I just leave it parked FOREVER and never drive it ANYWHERE, on the off chance it's going to get stuck???
Mullet: WHY'D YOU PUT IT BACK INTO PARK?
Me: Uhhhh....did you hear the whole thing I just said?
Mullet: Take it to your dealer.

So I did. They replaced a switch. Wait, I have the paperwork right here. This is what it says:
"Customer states: car keeps getting stuck in park/ please check
Faulty switch. Diagnosis found code P0571 (brake switch (A) circuit malfunction). Upon technical diagnosis confirmed brake light switch faulty. Replaced the brake light switch. Rechecked. Performs to factory specs"

I get a ride up to the dealer, hop into my car, and leave. I notice that the brakes are really tight and stompy. I can't accelerate on the highway. It stops eventually, and I assume that it worked itself out...
...until the next morning, when I drive to work and notice that whenever I take my foot off the gas, rather than coasting to a stop, the car SLAMS to a stop. I call the dealer, who say "Well, we really don't have time to look at it this week, and I don't have a loaner for you, so if you can drive it, and it's not an emergency situation let's make an appointment to see you next Thursday"
Another long story short, lunchtime finds Nick and I standing in a deserted gas station with my barely driving--almost brand new--car (I think a 7 month old car still counts as being almost brand new) smelling of burning brakes and brake dust. I call the dealer and say kind of snottily "I think my car now qualifies as an emergency". I call roadside assistance for a tow.
The tow truck guy pulls up about 15 minutes later. He lumbers out of the driver's seat, eating a piece of fried chicken, gives my car a dirty look, looks from Nick to I, and says "what's the problem?" I tell him the sad story. "Where's your dealer?" I tell him. "Woah! WOAH!! No one said nothing about driving all the way there, and if your brakes ain't working, you need a flatbed. I need to go back and get it. I'll be back in 5 minutes, tops!!!"
A HALF HOUR later, he shows back up, Nick gets a ride from one of his friends back to work, and my time with the driver begins. He starts off by smoking in my car, which, you know, isn't a federal offense, I mean, I'd let a FRIEND smoke in my car if they really wanted to. I'd assume, though, that a friend would ASK FIRST and not just do. Anyhow, he smoked in my car. Then, when I got into the truck (I had to drive up with him, because the dealer arranged a rental car for me) he struggled up to his seat, and so began the running commentary. Please know that it's at least a 25 minute drive. Also know that he only had one front tooth.

Him: Man, I can't believe we have to go all the way to Meridan. I would NEVER buy a Volkswagen.
Me: Huh Huh!
Him: TOOOOT HOOONNNK!!! Those guys have some of my trucks! HOOONNKK!! Wave wave!! Volkswagens are shit. They think they're awesome, but they ain't.
Him: See that car? It's a 1965 somethingorother (note: I don't remember what he said. It was an ugly gold car) I paid someone to rebuild it. I'm selling it! I got lots of cars for sale!
Me: Huh!!!
Him: Yeah, sometimes I race cars, I got one of my boys, he got this fast fast thing, he rebuilt it, don't look llike nothing, but it'll beat the crap out of any of those puerto rican kids want to race. I mean, they want to put money up, I'm like "fuck yeah! FUCK yeah!!"
Me: You DRAG race? In Connecticut? Where?
Him: Oh, you know, Long Wharf. 15. Any abandoned road. Anywhere there's road, really.
Me: Isn't that illegal?
Him: Heh, heh. Did I say something about racing? We don't race, it's more like...uh....a drive.
Him: HONNNNKK HONNNNNKKKKKKK!!! Those motherfuckers still owe me some money in there. I need to save up money to get my kids back. I just got out of jail like a night ago. I been up for like 48 hours in a row!!
Me: Hmm!!
Him: Yeah, my fucking bitch ex wife took the kids right after the court hearing and she took them to Vegas, and I spent 4000 dollars hiring a private investigator to find her. We lived down in North Carolina, nice house, lots of land, it would have belonged to us now, but that BITCH...
Him: (fishing chocolate out of his pocket) I really shouldn't be eating this, but what else am I gonna do? Want some???
Me: Unh-uh, thanks, though!!!
Him: You know where this place is, we're going? Because I don't know how to get there.
Me: I usually take the Merrit.
Him: Oh, well, for me to take the Merrit I gotta call up the state troopers and tell 'em I'm coming, and I don't want to deal with no cops.
Him: I guess we take 91 and get off somewhere.
Me: Mm-hmm.
Him: Last night, I had so many lockouts. They was all my calls. Lockouts.
Me: Hmm!
Him: Yeah, and I can bust into them all fast and shit. Bam, bam.
Him: There's no car I can't bust into. Except a BMW. But I'm working on that. I use something called a slim jim, though they ain't legal, no one's telling no cops on me.
Him: Bam, BAM, 2 seconds, I'm in. Like your car? Its hard to get into the front door, but you know how the back door locks stick up a little? I just bust in through the back.
Me: HMM!!
Him: One of my boys got a ticket for riding in this lane. I really ain't supposed to be in here. He got a $278 ticket. I just hate riding in these other lanes.
Him: HHOOONNNKKKK!! MOVE it lady, what's your problem? HONNNKK!!! Don't you got any gas on that thing? Piece of shit you're driving. I got this big thing and I'm going 85!!!!!!!
Him: TOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHH!!! TOOOOOOHHHHHHHH!!! How'm I supposed to drive in the other lanes with all these people going so damn slow??
Him: I'd love to kill my bitch ex-wife. She keeps taking the kids and moving them, but I know where she is now, she's got them up in Cape Cod, and as soon as she comes back, I'm going to have HER ass arrested and thrown in jail. Huh! See how she likes THAT shit, the stupid slut. No shit, we went to court, I swear to GOD she must have given the judge a blow job because the next thing, I'm in jail and she's got the kids. That's just the kind of slut she is, too. I see her bobbing her head up and down under the bench or some shit.
Him: I HATE people who drive slow in the fast lane! No shit, I took the bumper off my car and welded on a steel one and when I get behind people who drive slow, I just BUMP them!!!! Go 95 or get out of the fuckin' way!!
Me: You BUMP them?
Him: Yeah! You bet your ass they move right out of the way then! They see my big metal bumper bearing down on them at a buck twenny! Then, BAM! Just a little "get the fuck outta here" from me...
Him: ...my ex wife thinks she can just keep hiding my kids and I ain't going to go look for 'em. She's breaking the law! I got right to see them. She isn't allowed to leave town with them unless she tells the blowjob judge and she ain't allowed to cancel my seeing them without telling the blowjob judge neither, not like he'd do anything about it because she probably gave him a little pop under the table, you know?
Me: Huh!!!!
Him: ...I don't drink no coffee or soda or anything, and I don't drink no more becase when I was 18 the doctor told me like this, he said "Drink and DIE." The drinking was killing me. Now, if I'd known what was gonna happen, how this all turned out, I would have kept drinkin! At least I was having fun!! I don't drink nothing anymore. Not that I love life so much but I don't want HER to have the kids all to herself.
Him: I gotta confess, every once in a while, I smoke a JOINT.
Him: That's not illegal or nothing, I mean, NOT REALLY. It's for medicine!
Me: Uh. The dealer is right there on the right.
Him: This lot is a tight little fucker, innit? I can get this rig into and outta much smaller tho, this ain't nothing.
Me: Right there! I guess you can just get out right here!
Him: Ooh, lookit this car...
Him: You can tell it belongs to a mechanic, coz look how the brakes are and look how he took all the emblems off. You KNOW he does some racing in that thing, tho I could beat his ass in my car. Can't race with no shitty ass VOLKSWAGEN.
At this point, one of the women from the service department walks outside. She sees me and says "Dana!" (since I'm there like EVERY WEEK, we're all on a first name basis) "What's the matter?!?" I tell her the sad story, she coos sadly and goes off to finish whatever it was she was doing. The tow truck driver has been watching silently from on top of the bed.
Him: BITCH!! I HATE BITCHES WHO LOOK LIKE THAT!! LONG HAIRED SKINNY BITCHES!! LOOK JUST LIKE MY BITCH EX WIFE!!
Me: RUN STACEY!! RUN FOR YOUR LIFE!!
Him: Hah, hah. Seriously. I hate bitches who look like that.
He unhooks my car and lowers the whole contraption to the ground.
Him: Aw, fuck. See, I told you Volkswagens were peices of shit, lookit, the tow hook's all busted. Shitty welding job they do on these cars.
Me: You broke my tow hook?
Him: You might wanna mention to them that the shitty tow hook got busted.
Me: It didn't actually GET busted on it's own.
Him: They shouldna made it so shitty!!!!
Me: Okaythanksbye!

"Driveability Concern Units: 1.45 TECH(S):004
CUSTOMER STATES CAR SEEMS VERY SLUGGISH WHEN ACCELERATING, PLEASE CHECK AND ADVISE. ALSO BRAKES SEEM TO BE LOCKED UP, SEEMS TO BE THE FRONT, GRINDING. BRAKE LIGHT SWITCH STICKING. TEST DROVE TO VERIFY CUSTOMER CONCERN/CHECKED FOR FAULTS IN SYSTEM/NONE FOUND/CHECK THROTTLE CABLE, DEBRIS AROUND PEDAL CLUSTER, CRUISE CONTROL ITEMS/FOUND BRAKE LIGHT SWITCH STUCK/REPLACED SWITCH/TEST DROVE TEN MILES TO VERIFY REPAIRS/PERFORMS TO FACTORY SPEC"

Did you see what the repair was? Right. The same thing they'd replaced the day before. Did you notice the difference between the two times? Right, the second time they switched the part out and took it for a TEST DRIVE. If they'd bothered to do that the first time, my ride with the Pathologically Insane Tow Truck Driver wouldn't have had to happen. I wish I knew who his ex-wife was to warn her.

the other day - home - email - very soon.