Sweet merciful lord it’s finally fucking done

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.

Warning, this is a post of pure anger

It’s the wheel bearing.  Like I said I thought it was.  Why it required SIX GOD DAMN FUCKING HOURS to diagnose is completely beyond me.  Unfortunately, it’s both wheel bearings.  Including the one I had replaced back 8-9 months ago.  Total estimated cost:  $495 plus whatever tax.  Considering the MSRP of the bearings alone is around $70-90 depending on whom you ask, I’m getting raped up the ass in labor costs, because the estimated time is three hours.  THREE FUCKING MORE HOURS i’ve been here since seven fucking thirty this morning fuck i’m so mad i’m dizzy right now.

Dear god why

It’s inevitable that no matter what car repairs I’ll ever have to get done in my life, I’m going to have to bend over and take it up the ass financially.  But why dear god why, do I have to always suffer in the time department too?  I’ve been here since 7:25 a.m. and this fucking place still has no idea what is wrong with my car.  I told them I suspected bad wheel bearing, and if not that, something wrong with the CV joint, axle, or boots.  Instead, they’re toiling around with my rotors for some god forsaken fucking reason.

At this point, I’m resigned to going with dealership repair in the future, just because I’d probably not have to deal with this uneducated bullshit, if not for the fact that the closest Mazda dealership to where I live is almost 35 miles away.  One more reason why where I live absolutely sucks.

BHM query: Why the need to back into parking spaces?

The name of the game is reverse psychology.  The lemon’s in the shop again, but at least it’s for reasons I knew existed, and knew were coming.  But it doesn’t change the fact that I had to wake up at ass o’clock in order to be the first person at the shop, only for them to wait about two hours to even take my car for a shakedown.  Needless to say, with my entire morning more or less wasted, with it about to encroach into my afternoon, here’s temping fate.  I’m sitting at the adjacent Starbucks, tired of reading, and settling into a writing mentality.  It will be during this time that the shop will call me to update me on my car.  With that in mind…

What historical events led to the disposition of the overwhelming majority of African-Americans preferring to back into parking spaces?

Continue reading “BHM query: Why the need to back into parking spaces?” →

BHM query: Why is there a fascination with big rims?

We’ve all seen them.  Wheels so wide, often chrome, often the cleanest aspect of the car themselves, and on cars that are 100% of the time driven by African-Americans.  And as prompted by Sir Charles Barkley himself, imploring young black athletes to stop wasting their money on rims, I must ask:

What historic events led to the modern disposition in African-Americans today that associate big rims with success, credibility, and status?

Continue reading “BHM query: Why is there a fascination with big rims?” →

BHM query: Why retired police cruisers?

Considering my day started off with me almost getting blindsided as I was pulling out of my driveway by someone, evidently a little too excited that it’s Black History Month, I’ve decided to start this Million 400,000 Man March (fail) of questions in relation to cars.  Seriously, I turned my head to the right, no car, I turned my head to the left, no car, and as the rear of my car was just hitting the asphalt, ZOOM goes a Toyota Land Cruiser a foot off my bumper.  I’d ask the question of why black people drive so idiotically fast all the time, but I actually had been given a valid answer in the past which satiates the need to know.

What historic events led to the black man’s fascination with retired police cruisers?

Continue reading “BHM query: Why retired police cruisers?” →

Do odd jobs even exist anymore?

I actually like this commercial.  Guy sees something he really likes and wants, and does what more people should do in order to attain their desires – work for it.  He busts his ass doing all the things nobody else wants to do, and in the end, surpasses his goal and is ultimately capable of buying two Jettas.  Feel good story of a year.

But it got me thinking – given my own financial woes, and the fact that I have a tendency to get mind-numbingly bored from time to time, that I would be more than capable of doing some of the things this guy does in the commercial, in order to supplement some additional income on the side for my own needs.  If it paid somewhat reasonable to off-set the cost of transportation, I’d gladly take ass-kickings from people while in pads, or walk dogs, or other odd jobs that don’t involve me having to deal directly with “customers,” are short periods at a time, and pay in cash under the table.  I don’t think I’d want to be the guy at the corner of Ponce and Monroe dressed as Uncle Sam, schilling for tax prep businesses, be the hot dog guy, or do nude modeling, but there are other random odd jobs I’d be willing to do for some side cash.

Here’s the thing though; upon looking for odd jobs in the Metro Atlanta area, they simply don’t exist.  Not to the under-the-table criteria that I’d prefer, at least.  Going to Craigslist results in nothing but modeling, veiled modeling ads that sound like porn screening, and veiled modeling ads that are for shitty no-name rappers that eventually turn into porn screenings.  That, or stuff that really does require existing skill, references, and experience.  So I googled “odd jobs,” and found a promising site of potential odd job listings, but it literally provided nothing but a list of Craigslist ads for the same shit.  And then, there was nothing else.

Maybe it’s because I’m not in San Francisco, or any other hippie/white/liberal community that would have random sheets of paper with tear-strips advertising one-off jobs on the fly, but at least in the Atlanta area, any tear sheets involve people trying to sell services so that they can make money, or support groups of some sort.  Dog walking is now done through official agencies, or “professional” walkers, and it seems like the ability to get odd jobs is now dependent on the cliched “who you know” kind of mentality.

Much like the mom ‘n pop industries were more or less decimated by the evolution of Wal-Marts and other superstores, the odd job culture seems to have been destroyed by society, and the incorporation of small businesses turning common, small labor into work hoarding and essentially, pimping.