The Tempest

Not Exactly Shooting For \”Miss Congeniality\”

They Saw Me Coming

Posted by Daniel on Friday, September 8, 2006

Okay, we’re all more than familiar with the stories of how mechanics like to rip women off just because females can’t comprehend the internal workings of the modern combustion engine. It must be easier to “explain” what the problem with the minivan is by just pointing out each charge on the final bill, right?

She: “This little ‘thingie’ (pine-scented air freshener) fell off of my rear-view mirror.”

Mechanic: “Don’t worry your pretty little head about it, ma’am. A new set of tires and a new alternator ought to fix that right up.”

“She: “My hero!”

If you’re a mechanic…and a man…bear with me on this. I don’t mean there aren’t any honest mechanics out there. I simply mean – and don’t tell me that this is news to you – there are some out there that are just down right fucking dishonest.

Sure, women have come a long way in the past 30-odd years, but we all know they still get the drive shaft when it comes to some auto mechanics.

Apparently, the same runs true between mechanics and mo’s.

Consider the following nightmare:

For the past couple of weeks, I’ve noticed (as has anyone within earshot) a certain squealing when I apply the brakes on my truck. Coming to a stop has been an experiment in terror, because it has sounded like I was running over a screaming queen. Trust me, that’s not a pretty sound in any respect!!

Of course, even I know that the cause of this ungawdly sound has been thin brake pads…and possibly some worn rotors.

(wow…that’s a bit too butch. I’m going to need a silk purse douche, STAT!!)

So I take my truck in to the garage I’ve been going to since we moved out here to the suburbs.

Like an idiot.

I’ve been ripped off by this place so much I feel like Jodie Foster in “The Accused”…

“Look at him in that short skirt. He had it coming!”

Anyway, like the glutton for a good mechanical raping that I am, I go back and they tell me it’s going to cost $1283.84. After I picked up my jaw and my purse, I called Steve.

Here is their estimate diagnosis:

“During the brakes inspection, we found that the left front caliper is leaking brake fluid and the front pads are thin and the front rotors are grooved and are ready for replacement.

We also found that the rear brake shoes are thin and the left rear wheel cylinder is seaping.

We recommend to replace the front pads and rotors and replace the caliper and rear shoes, rear wheel cylinders and perform a brake fluid flush.

Customer declined repairs at this time and has been informed about the leaking components. Customer was then charged a $40.00 brake inspection fee.”

Code – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Hourly Rate
“Ah Ha”………………………………….$ 50.00
“That’s Unbelievable!”……………..$ 75.00
“How Terrible!”……………………….$ 95.00
“It’s a miracle you’re alive!”…….$150.00

I won’t tell you the exchange Steve and I had over the phone and the names we called this garage. Suffice it to say that after I pulled my skirt back up, fixed my smeared makeup and ran a brush through my hair, we decided to take the truck to another mechanic at a garage closer by that also happens to work on our city vehicles.

First of all, this honest garage (we’ll call them “Randy’s”, because that’s their name) wasn’t at all surprised about the other garage (we’ll call them McCorkendale’s, because that’s their name and I want it on the Mechanic’s Sex Offender List!!) adding on unnecessary work. They were, however, very shocked to see what McCorkendale’s actually charge for such work.

Randy’s did a complete workover on my truck and found absolutely no sign of brake fluid leakage, nothing wrong with the caliper and not one thing wrong with my rear end.

I had a Jack McFarland moment when they said that. “Rear end…hahahahaha!!”

Steve rolled his eyes and handed over the VISA.

Bottome line: The final bill at Randy’s was $542.86, including tax and labor.

Disc Pad Set = =$60.03
Hub & Rotor = =$224.14
Wheel Seal = = $24.90
Shop Supplies = $17.64
Labor = = = = =$195.00
—————————-

Joy of sticking it to the man = PRICELESS

(“Sticking it to the man…hahahahahaha!!”)

Score one victory for the Nancyboy!

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