October 18, 2007

Can a Sista Get a Mutha F'n Break!?

The "check engine" light came on in my car. So I go to my trusty neighborhood mechanic and say, "WTF?"

He plugs in his diagnostic dew-hickey and says, "uh, oh".

"It's the transmission, isn't it?" says I.

"Indeed it is." says he.

"Of course it is." says I.

fuckity fuck fuck fuck!!!

I laugh maniacally.

He sends Esmeralda, the dirty bitch, to the transmission specialist who rebuilt it a year and a half ago for further investigation.

tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock (Hey, I got some knitting done!)

Esmeralda rolls back in. I brace for the news and start imagining how I can get in a bad enough accident to total the car, without messing myself up too badly, so that I'll have a pocket full of insurance cash to embark on my next automotive adventure. (as an aside, I'm totally freaking through with automatic transmissions . . . and Fords . . . It's OVER!!)

They checked it out. Some "overdrive band" came off which triggered the "check engine" light. They replaced the band, took it on a test drive (and oked it), and cleared the warning light. All that for the low low cost of $ 0.00! I could have kissed them all, but contrary to what you might think, I'm particular about where I put my mouth.

Sometimes, a sista can get a mutha f'n break.

P.S. Esmeralda and I kissed and made up.

19 comments:

Art said...

Good for you but you suck because I've never gotten out of a check engine light for $0.00 ! ;)

AliBlahBlah said...

Hondas baby. Mine has 180,000 miles and after a hard days work smells like all good working ladies (in reference to your last post) of hot oil and burnt rubber(s).

Kate Isis said...

I tend to kill auto transmissions as well, i just look for tougher cars when they eventually die. I've been driving for a little over two years now, and i've been through five cars. I'd like to think they were all a little dodgey but if i break a sixth then I'll concede it's my fault.

dive said...

Woohoo!
Boffo, Fresh.
My old roadie, Sean the biker, used to be my mechanic before I got sick of used cars and ponied up for decent ones.
Whenever anything went wrong he would go out at night and steal parts from some poor sod's car to fix mine.
When my engine management computer went blooey, he reached into the dash and disconnected the warning light, then got the car chugging along just sufficiently to trade it in at an unsuspecting garage.
The world loves a bastard.

Fresh Hell said...

Art~ Believe me, this is a first. Usually I don't make it out of the shop for under $500. It's truly unfair.

Ali~ Hee hee.

My Mazda 323 was the work horse that wouldn't die. When she finally started running poorly, I wished for an accident to total it and not mess me up too bad. It came, in the form of an uninsured illegal immigrant (you immigrants are a menace), who had a warrant for his arrest, and fled the scene leaving his two children bleeding on my front yard.

Moral of the story: I must be careful about what I wish for.

Kate~ Yeah, your track record is a little suspicious. Try taking an auto mechanics course. Knowing how it works from the inside helps a lot with how much you get out of them from behind the wheel.

Dive~ Sean the biker sounds like a good fella to have on your side. My trusty mechanic said he is happy to perform the service of clearing all the warning codes in the computer and shutting off the check engine light long so that I can get a good trade in on it. He's a good egg.

Andraste said...

Man, you dodged a bullet there. I'm jealous. That effing brake job on my goddamn (FORD) truck set me back a couple of months of freelance work.

Also, I dodged a bullet last night/this morning. I am NOT HUNGOVER. How many damn guinnesses did I have? 5 hours of sleep, and I feel...just dandy, really.

How in the name of all that's unholy...

And YOU?

Fresh Hell said...

Coffee is a very close friend of mine. When I first woke, I thought my goose was cooked, but I'm holding steady. Tired, sure, but in the greater scheme of things, not a problem. The planets must have been properly aligned last night. Or perhaps it was the witch dance I performed on all our behalfs when I got home. We'll have to see if Sassy weathered the storm as well.

Oh yeah, 17 Guinnesses were on the bill. What does one think? Yeah, sure, another round. Dodged bullets, indeed!

Full said...

"Some things hurt more, much more than cars & girls"
(Prefab Sprout - From Langley Park to Memphis)

Do you want me to send you a new one from my magic kingdom?

Andraste said...

She's awfully quiet, but it may be the no blogging at work thing...

Andraste said...

Brace yourself, I just did some math.

If you guys each had one before I got there, that 17 means you guys each had 6 and I had 5.

5 or 6 really isn't all THAT many guinnesses, but I suspect we're all very lucky that we ate. Sans food, today would be very ugly indeed.

Enrique said...

You were really lucky. But I guess all the kicking and bitching did the job. If you're too nice in such situations they'll steamroll over you and give a pretty dizzy three- or four-digit bill.
I'm happy that things worked out.
Enrique

Fresh Hell said...

Oh Full, yes please! I'm partial go green.

Nice quote, and so true. ;-)

Andraste~ I bet she didn't make it awake in time to make any re-cap posts/comments. Either that or she's got some wounds to lick. I doubt the latter since our gal seems to know her way around a pint (or six).

I did that math whilst brushing teeth last night. Six indeed!

Enrique~ Not as happy as I am about how it worked out, my friend. I've seen the dizzying four digit bill. It's ugly and makes a girl wish for death, or a sugar daddy.

Cynthia said...

Fords indeed! The last one that existed in my family was a 1970 red Pinto which my father planned to "generously" give me for my 16th birthday. Being the bitch I was (and am) I told him "I'd rather walk". And this was BEFORE the proverbial they (or I for that matter) knew about the exploding gas tanks! There is not a Ford that exists that is not an ugly piece of unreliable American-made shit! Wow, where did all that hostility come from? Must be Friday after a week of dealing with medical professionals with a very misplaced sense of superiority and entitlement (not to mention all the fun-loving, drug-seeking party animals who need all manner of pills refilled before the weekend). MUCHO AMOR Y PAZ from Mama C

Andraste said...

Cynthia - I think you're definitely right about Ford cars, but I will stand by the F-150 as one of the best trucks on the market. My family has had Ford trucks forever and they've always stood us well. My Ranger, however, is another story. Pretty good, but much too light for New England winters, so you need to actually weigh them down with bags of sand over the rear wheels. Which SUCKS.

My next truck will definitely be an F series.

Wait. I started out disagreeing with you and now I've gone and proved your point.

Shit!

Cynthia said...

Don't worry Andraste...Fresh Hell will confirm to you that sooner or later, all those exposed will walk on the Mama C dark side (if only for an exquiite moment). For the record, I own a Volvo Station Wagon with a peace symbol in the back window so I can move about somewhat inconspicuously amidst Yuppie Hell in Santa Barbara.
Mama C

savannah said...

damn! there is justice in this world,sugar! good for you..and your pals last night!

Sassy Sundry said...

Yay!!!!

Eddie Waring said...

Mine came on a couple of weeks ago, just as the smog check was due. I said "fuck!" very loudly and drove around for two weeks and as if by magic it went off again. I should have taken it for a smog check the very next day but did I? Did I fuck... Two days later it came back on again. Once again, loud cursing ensued. On my way to the mechanics to get it checked the light went back off again, so a quick detour to the test station and 20 minutes later a successful smog certificate was in my hands.
Sometimes (not often)it pays to procrastinate.

Mrs. G. said...

Glad to hear Esmeralda is going to live. It is nice to get a break...when it comes to car repairs, they are rare. Keep on truckin'