We spent the day up at Charlie’s in Waterloo. He had to replace a faulty transmission range switch on the old Durango, a twenty four prong plug that attaches to the side of the transmission case - a problem which Rolling Tire misdiagnosed twice, charging me over 300 bucks for their ineptitude. Both times I had it there I told them the problem was in the plug, and that my brother-in-law had zip tied it in a position where the connection was being made – just as band aid surgery until we could get the plug repaired or replaced. Both times they ignored me and said it was something else. It wasn’t something else. I’ve only got 354,500 miles on that baby – it’s practically new…ish. Before we took off this morning I ran the car down to the Dandy in Athens at about 7:30 to gas it up and check the fluids. Everything looked good, but I figured I’d grab a bottle of fuel injector cleaner, so I left the gas cap off and went inside. There was a woman loading up the cashier’s drawer with bills and coins, while an old timer in uniform and ill-fitting hat peered over her shoulder, nodding at the various instructions she barked while she worked. When she finally finished, she retreated to the office, and he moved forward to check me out. Taking the bottle of cleaner, he fumbled getting it in front of the scanner, then asked, “You want a bag for this?” “No, thanks, I’ll just drink it here,” I told him. “Can you get me a cup with some ice?” He stared at me blankly for a moment, then asked, “Whassat? You want a what, now?” Oh, boy. I knew at that point I shouldn’t have attempted the joke, and quickly said, “Nothing. No bag,” handing him a ten (know your audience, I chastised myself). He dug in the drawer, figuring out my change, and handed it to me with a mechanical, practiced ‘thank you, have a nice day’. As I turned to leave I heard him mutter to himself, “Cup with ice…heh-heh!”
Posted on: Sun, 30 Jun 2013 00:44:41 +0000
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