Park 'n Ride

My parents have always subscribed to the notion that used cars are better than new cars for the following reasons:

1)  Better to have a $500 payment (on repairs) once in awhile than have a steady, monthly $400-$500 payment.

2)  Was there another reason?

I'll admit, there's some logic to #1.  I mean, if you get a good used car (and of course I'm an expert at this after a lifetime learning from the parents), you could go a whole year, maybe even two, without having to make a "payment."  On the other hand, a steady monthly payment on a new car pretty much ensures that you won't find yourself coasting down a main thoroughfare, gritting your teeth and attempting to bargain with your vehicle (If you could just make it to that parking lot up ahead...I promise I'll never again let the tank go all the way down before filling it).  Neither does a monthly payment come as a surprise to you, like some warped Santa's idea of a gift (You chose to make do with what you have instead of just buying a new one!  Great!  As a reward, here's your Complete Exhaust System Repair Bill!  It's the gift that keeps on taking...).  Add those concerns to the "guilty-until-proven-innocent" attitude one must have when dealing with those no-good mechanics (got this one from the parents too), and it's no wonder I've spent so many hours focused on designing my new XTerra online, like any good ostrich in the sand.

Incidentally, now is not the time to mention the possibility of not being able to afford said monthly payment.

Wondering where this post is coming from?  Well, here's been my day so far:  I take the car in for a semi-routine fixing of the serpentine belt, which (surprisingly) did not require any arm, leg, or other body part payment.  The mechanic comes out to let me know I'm "all set," and then casually mentions, "Oh, and you might want to get ahold of one of those bolts pretty soon."

"What bolts?"

"Oh, the one that typically holds your alternator on.  It's missing."

"Missing?"

"Ayup."

"Well, where is it?"

"I don't know.  It wasn't there when we put the belt on.  But like I said, you might want to see about that pretty soon, because without that bolt the alternator'll probably just fall off at some point."

Now I don't know much about cars, but I'm guessing that wouldn't be good.  "Well, can you put another one on for me," I say hopefully.

"Yeah, no problem."  He doesn't move.

"Today?"

"Sure, won't take a minute.  I just need a bolt."  He looks at me as if I've been hiding one.

"And you don't have any here."

"Nope.  Probably have to go to the dealership for that.  But once you have one, just bring it back in and we can put it on for you no problem."

"Awesome."  I'm about to leave when I realize there are probably any number of bolts involved with a car and that I most likely will not be able to describe which one I need, so I ask him to write it down for me.  He gives me a slip of paper with the words "alternator bolt" scrawled on it.  I'm pretty sure this will not be of much help, but I leave anyway and drive across the street to the Toyota dealership (grateful that there is one in such close proximity).

"Hi," I say to the guy at the counter.  "I need an alternator bolt for a 2005 Toyota Corolla."  He nods and begins typing things into his computer.

"Do you want the bolt that holds the alternator in, or the tension bolt?"

Why I don't say "just give me both" I'll never know.  Instead, I say, "Uh...I'm not sure, but I think he meant the one that holds the alternator in."  He nods, grabs the part from a drawer behind him, charges me $4.00, and I'm on my way back across the street to Jiffy Lube.

The Jiffy Lube guy takes one look at the bolt and says, "That's way too big -- not gonna fit."

"So I need the other bolt then, the tension bolt?" I say, thinking I sound a bit knowledgable and therefore "on top of my game."

"Uh...yeah, sure."

If I were telling this story to my mom on the phone, at this point she would say, No, Keyna, that's not right!  You need to take it somewhere else!  She would not get the humor.  Luckily for these guys, I do get it.  So I take my faulty bolt, go back to the dealership, and proclaim the need for the Other Bolt.  Two guys (the same from before and another guy) spend fifteen minutes trying to locate said bolt on the computer inventory to no avail.  They even come out to the car and look at it to see what they need, but the part is simply not listed in any of the diagrams of my car.  So they give me a handful of bolts in different widths and lengths, a refund for the previous bolt, and send me on my way.

I drive back across the street to Jiffy Lube, pass on the handful o' bolts, and the guy disappears to "give them a try."  He comes back a few minutes later with three bolts, and I say, "Oh, good so one of them was the right one."

"Yeah," he says, "it was kind of a tight fit but I made it work."  Very confidence-inspiring.  Nonetheless, I thank him and head out, eager to get on with the more important parts of my day's plan, like purchasing mouse traps for the house (another story for another time).

I make it to the Ace Hardware a few blocks from my house when the car radio and clock blink out, followed quickly by some sputtering, and then coasting with no power into a convenient parking spot.  Deep breaths.  More deep breaths.  I try to start the car -- nothing, not even a click.  More deep breaths. Must.  Control.  Fists.  Of.  Death!!

The Cliff Notes for the rest of the story go as follows:  long conversation with Jiffy Lube guy, no new information; friend tries to jump car, no luck; random guy from barber shop next to Ace goes on smoke break, chats pleasantly about cars breaking down, tells me not to go to Handy's (where I usually go), then recommends a small Asian mechanic across the street; Random Barber Shop Guy, Small Asian Mechanic, and I push car across North Ave.; Small Asian Mechanic tells me "battery and alternator bad."

I guess the upshot here is that I'm once again thankful that Burlington really is a biking/busing town (see previous post).