Literally ten full hours after arriving to the shop, my car was finished.  The shop obviously knew I was salivating at the opportunity to rip some new ass holes to anyone who honestly thought I was going to pay the full cost of the repairs, and provided almost zero resistance to when I explained to them in a cold, anger-filled tone, that I was not happy with the way things went.  Unlike many people who drop their cars off, have a family member or close friend pick them up, do their merry little shit, and then returned when beckoned, this is a luxury that I do not have.  Why I should be penalized for lackadaisical work, and literally my entire functional day wasted was not an option I was going to accept.

7:25 a.m. – Arrival, explanation of problem (bearings or CV axle/joint/boot)
9:20 a.m. – Car actually goes in
1:15 p.m. – I inquire to find out that my rotors have been machined despite them not likely being the problem
1:43 p.m. – Problem found (bearings, like I suspected)
5:25 p.m. – Car fixed

Ten hours.  They offered me $70 off of what would have been roughly close to $600 with the taxes and egregious labor factored in.  I insisted on an even $100.  I may be pissed, and actually want the service done completely gratis, but I’m also not illogical, and I know these people need to pay bills too.  So in the end, it’s $400+ but at least the horrendous grinding sound is gone (for now).  I won’t stop clenching my anoos for at least seven days, since with the Lemon, there’s always the propensity that a follow-up problem must occur.

Regardless, my weekend’s been a wash.  Sundays don’t count to me, and my Saturday has thoroughly been ruined.  Instead of going to karaoke tonight, since my financial rectum is bleeding, I think I’m going to stay home and watch some fucking Caribbean baseball instead.