I only have one car and I need new brake pads or rotors or something.
…and the dealership/mechanic isn’t open on weekends.
…and Mr. Brickie is working.
Grinding brakes are no one’s friend. I hear that sound and panic shoots through me. Your husband (if you’re me) will say, “It’s just the warning track the put on the pads” and when you remind him the warning track should be squeaking not grinding he kind of shakes his head and says, “They’re all different.”
If you’re tired enough, you will believe him. You shouldn’t, though, because later you’ll realize your mistake was trusting your husband and then you’ll have to deal with that pile of WTFery until hours later you stop yelling at him for being untrustworthy and remember he used to be like this all the time and you’re just in the middle of his twice yearly “let’s fuck things up by speaking before thinking” week and things will be okay again.
Where is MY vacation from being on the ball? I only get medical leave. I’m jealous.
I called the dealership and (prepare to be shocked) the service manager said warning tracks on brake pads don’t grind and we proceeded into the bonus round of the phone call I like to refer to as, “Scheduling Bingo!” until I realized nothing would work. I can’t drive my husband to work because he works an hour and a half away and getting the kids up at 4am is cruel. I mean maybe I should have just put everyone in the car and done that. I’m a little confused now that I’m typing it all out.
While I was on the phone, however, I asked if they had loaners (of course not) and if they were near a rental car place (they were!) and the service manager said, “But you have to pay for that.” I smiled into the phone with my best nice smile and said, “That’s why it’s a rental not a loaner, huh?” I laughed and he laughed and the tension was gone. Except the tension in my jaw. That’s still there today.
You know I wanted to be sarcastic and say something nasty. I truly did. Pay for a rental? YOU’RE KIDDING ME? IS THAT HOW THEY STAY IN BUSINESS? But I’m old. Old people know being nice to get what you want is more important than saying what you really feel. Plus I know no one is going to make a bolt just a little loose because the mean lady had it coming. Yes, I live in fear. It works for me.
I call my husband to tell him all this information and to give him directions on what to do after work and I am greeted by Bob Villa (except cars) who immediately dives into this long and strong diatribe about his total 100% ability to change the brake pads on his own. This is partially if not entirely my fault because I found a YouTube video that did, in fact, make changing the brake pads look really easy. But after talking to the car guy and looking up some stuff about grinding in the Mazda forums, well… let’s just say I’m pretty sure I know what’s up. So I wait for him to finish beating his chest and doing the big strong man bit and try to ignore the ever-worsening clenching in my jaw from holding back my smart-ass comments and say,.“I truly, 100% believe you could change the heck out of those brake pads, honey” because now I’m totally in I don’t care if I throw myself under the bus all day I’m getting this shit taken care of mode “but the service manager doesn’t think it’s just the pads and if you take everything apart at home tonight and find out the rotors need scraping or changing it will be eight at night and that will leave us without a car until Monday. I’m very scared and that puts too much pressure on you can we please just have a professional do them this time?”
He sighed and said, “Well if it will make you feel less scared that would be okay I guess.”
I think I heard my jaw crack.
I said, “Thank you” and proceeded to give him directions on where the car rental place was and who to talk to at the dealership when he got there.
So we are spending an extra $30 for Mr. Brickie to drive a rental to work today. I’m not sure it’s a great idea. Hell, I’m not even sure if it’s a good idea. I’m not sure if we can really even afford it. I mean we can but what is that doing to the Christmas fund? The grocery fund? The “pay off the mattress we bought” fund? I’m not sure until we know the final price for the brake job from the dealer.
I don’t find out about the $300 hold on my debit card until this morning at 6:15am when I’m going over yesterday’s purchases. I call Mr. Brickie and he said, “The service manager told me it would only be $50.” Which means he didn’t verify with Enterprise. I am guessing it’s a $50 hold on a credit card and a $300 hold on a debit card but it wasn’t worth mentioning because at this point my jaw was just in crumbles in my face.
It’s 7:50am and I seriously think I might just go back to bed and give up on today because I’ve used up all my niceness in the last 16 hours and I don’t have any more to give.
Once he was accepting the dealership would be working on our (one and only) car he decided this morning that If the only thing the car needs (let us bow our heads to pray) is brake pads, I should tell them to go ahead and change out the wiper blades too.
Don’t you love how someone can go from being all hands on do-it-yourself to the Prince of Persia in ten seconds flat? Yeah, me too. It’s hilarious.
Does someone have a broom and dustpan for my powdered jaw?
Finally, my apologies for the several instances where this started to sound like a version of If You Give A Mouse A Cookie or If You Give A Moose A Muffin. We are doing Book It! with the six year old and I have a severe children’s literature infection.