Little Miss Not-So-Independent

I'm a big girl. As in, I'm a grown up. I have prided myself on my self-sufficiency for years. Each of the 14 times I've moved since leaving home the first time (ridiculous, I know...hopefully, Seattle will stick), I have physically managed the move on my own (with the much appreciated help of a few friends). I take care of myself and manage my own affairs (as in, finances, don't get the wrong idea).

However, two recent experiences have reminded me that a man isn't such a bad thing to have around. I've intrigued you, haven't I?

Experience 1: The One with the Car

For about 2 weeks, my car did the strangest thing. It started fine. It reversed fine. But it increasingly fell flat when I hit the gas pedal. It felt like air being let out of a tire. I pumped the pedal a few times and it would lurch into gear. When this started happening more often than not, I made a trip to Firestone. The very nice mechanic listened to my pathetic attempt to explain the problem and checked my car for no charge. He said it sounded like a transmission issue and that I should take it to the dealer because a transmission shop would just want to sell me a new one, but the dealer (supposedly the expert on my specific car) would be more apt to check things out first and see if it's something more minor.

A little background on my car: it is a 2000 with 84K miles and needs to cover a LOT of terrain in the coming hot summer months, including drives across Texas and then 2,400 miles to Seattle.

So, I took the car to the dealer, feeling extremely vulnerable. Really, I have no knowledge of cars and am in a position where I must simply trust what they say. The first day they had my car (yes, there was more than one day), they said they drove it around and were unable to duplicate the problem so they couldn't know how to fix it w/o tearing up my car, which could get unnecessarily expensive. I appreciated this, but knew my car had an issue so they agreed to let me bring it back the next day to try again.

That night, I talked to a friend in Corpus who works on cars all the time and, from 450 miles away, he was able to help. He asked a thousand questions and finally asked about my last tune-up. After saying, "Huh?" I remember that my last oil change was at a new place and they were very thorough. So I got the receipt and sure enough, in black ink plain as day, it said my transmission fluid was dirty and a "serp" belt was cracked.

My annoyance was aimed at 3 targets:
1) Me-for being ignorant and not checking the oil change receipt
2) The oil change people-for not consulting with me about those things (they just gave me my receipt...I mean, seriously. Do I not look like the type of person who would just stick the receipt in my glove compartment if you don't sit me down & say something is wrong? Even if I don't look like that type of person, isn't that your job?)
3) The car dealer-if these things were recognized during a routine oil change, I have to wonder about the idiots, excuse me "experts," at the dealership who couldn't lift my hood and see it themselves.

So, I took the car back for its second day at the dealer. I took the receipt and left it with someone (Guy B), b/c the guy I'd dealt with the day before (Guy A) wasn't there (of course). I showed him what was wrong (did his job for him) and told him to relay the message to his compadre. He said he would.

At noon, I called the dealer and left a voicemail with Guy A, asking about the progress. At 3:30 pm, he called back and said they had driven it again w/no problems. I asked if he got the receipt from Guy B that morning and he said yes. I asked if he fixed those issues. He said no. I asked (incredulously) why not, and he said that Guy B just gave him the receipt but didn't say to fix those issues.

So, now my car has been there all day w/very clear instructions from a 29 year old woman with no car experience on exactly what the problem was that they should have figured out on day 1. I asked when the car could be ready and he said by 5:30 pm. I said fine.

He called back at 4:00 pm to say the parts were unavailable until the next day. I almost reached through the phone and strangled him.

The next day, they fixed the two issues and I got my car back. It is 5 days later. Last night, I was leaving a friend's apartment and my car just died. Thankfully, I tried again and it started. Geez.

This experiences leaves me:
A) Wanting a man. Even if he knows nothing about cars, his mere presence is guaranteed better service that what I got.
B) Wanting to take auto classes.
C ) All of the above

This is a long enough post that I will keep you in suspense for Episode 2 of Little Miss Not-So-Independent.