Preface: please refer to the September 28th blog: “Well, it saves on air conditioning…” This is the sequel.
I feel that I have the best luck with fourth times around. My wedding dress was finally cleaned after the fourth attempt, so I therefore have a connection to the number four. Whatever.
Adventure: A fourth trip to the mechanic to make my window work. Up to this point I have been waiting for the part to get in, breaking said part, over and over again. Today, I will attempt to best the beast and beat the window into submission. The story unfolds…
Candace pulls into the mechanic parking lot and parks. She gets out of her vehicle and walks into the shop. A very nice mechanic takes her keys and tells her that it will be a few minutes before her car is taken back. “That’s fine,” she says as she finds her usual place on the broken filthy couch in the waiting area. She pulls out A Confederacy of Dunces and continues reading about Ignatius’ zany antics.
After five minutes or so, Candace notices an older gentleman enter the establishment. He approaches the dirty couch and stands there. Candace looks up.
The man clears his voice. “Do you own the little black Acura?”
“Yes,” she replies.
“I just backed into it,” he said with much remorse.
“Oh. Is it ok?” Seriously!?! She thinks.
“Yeah, it’s ok. My trailer hitch just scratched your bumper.”
“Ok. Let’s go look at it.” Candace rises with little grace off of the broken down couch and follows the man out to the parking lot.
On her way to her car, she passes a huge truck, obviously the culprit. As they pass this monster truck, Candace catches a glimpse of the accident. The man and his mammoth truck did not scratch the bumper. The trailer hitch went straight through the bumper, pierced the bumper creating a six inch gap in the middle.
“I guess it’s a little more than a scratch,” observed the man.
The strangers exchanged information and parted ways. Candace wasn’t even upset. She had more or less resigned herself to accept whatever may happen with this vehicle. Between the broken window, multiple flat tires, break-ins, transmission problems, and now accident, she has learned to shrug and say, I guess that’s the way it goes.
Candace finds her place on the dirty couch once more and opens her book. She may have acquired a new problem with her car, but at least she can fix one today. Ten minutes go by. Enter the nice mechanic.
“Man, I don’t even want to talk to you right now. You aren’t very lucky today.”
Long story short, my window is not fixed. My bumper is not fixed. I have appointments for my fifth and first attempts set for next week. How I wish I lived in a place that didn’t require a car.
So, maybe the fifth time will be the charm.