Tired And Re-Tired

So let me tell you about my yesterday…

Monday was my first day back after the cyst removal. My stitches are still laced through my skull and the headaches are still bothersome, but I sucked it up. On Tuesday morning, despite my better judgment, I woke up early and decided to address my tire situation. The front passenger side tire of my beloved Saturn VUE has been suffering a slow – read: fast – leak, and in two days went from 35psi to 14psi.

So I trekked to the local tire shop – I won’t give the name because they’re usually top-notch – arrived at 9am, and asked them to replace the tire. No fuss, no muss… for any normal person.

Since this is me, a simple exchange of money-for-services became a nightmare. First, the man at the front desk was a noob. It was literally his first day. The guy claimed it would be an hour – in fairness, they were busy – but could be as long as an hour and a half. No biggie, at least I’d be home for lunch.

While sitting in the lobby, I scoured the interwebz while ABC’s awful morning program blared from the only television. (My god, The View is an awful, awful show.) An hour and a half transformed into two hours, and the noob kept telling me, “You’re next on the lift.” My headache was competing with my stress level for most annoying internal malady.

At the two and a half hour mark, the noob came out to tell me they didn’t have my tire size. This after telling me – twice – it was in stock, and after my SUV was high on the lift. But it was okay, because the noob said he could get me a tire – by driving two hours (round trip) to the closest store with my size.

It’s as if my Saturn VUE was the Ark of the Covenant, and no ordinary tire would do. No, they needed one of gilded gold with diamond studs.

Hour three featured the local news – something I haven’t watched in years – and the appearance of the assistant manager, who sheepishly told me the noob read my tire size incorrectly. In fact, the tire was not two hours away, it was two feet away, sitting on the rack.

After apologizing profusely, the assistant manager replaced my tire, gave me a discount, and got me back on the road in only four and a half hours. It was just enough time to get home, shower, and rush back to work. Hooray for me!

5 thoughts on “Tired And Re-Tired

  1. That is ridiculous! I hate car trouble and now even getting new tires is a major production. I feel your pain! On the upside, work was probably therapy at that point.


  2. Last time I had to get my Jeep in the shop, I was told it would take a day and a half (my heater coil had started leaking water/antifreeze).
    I dropped it off on a Monday morning and my wife brought me home.
    I called the shop Tuesday afternoon, and was told the part wouldn’t be there until the next day. I called Wednesday afternoon and was told it was still on order, to be delivered Friday.
    I called Friday afternoon and was told it would be ready Saturday afternoon.
    I called Saturday afternoon and was told the mechanic that was working on my Jeep had called in sick.
    Monday afternoon, I was told to come in Tuesday afternoon.
    Tuesday morning the shop called me and said I needed a new cable for my transaxle. I asked them if they had the correct number. The guy said their mechanic had to pull my console and dash out to get the heater coil replaced. Cost of the cable & labor: $380. I declined to have it replaced and advised the guy that I had driven my Jeep into their shop, and I would drive it out.
    Tuesday afternoon I picked up my Jeep. Seven days, six working days, after I had brought it there.
    You and I have the same luck with auto shops.

    Roll safe.


      1. Needless to say, the Jeep dealer that is less than one mile from my home has lost a customer. Not the first time their mechanic “went exploring” for something else to fix. It was the last time, though.


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