I Wasn’t Challenging HIM

            The day after my Mac incident, I dress in a white suit and three inch heels for a meeting inDallas.  As I wait in the car for my security gate to open, I close my eyes and speak to HIM, “I know you don’t give me anything I can’t handle.”

            I’m on the road about 20 minutes, when I notice my car’s temperature gauge is a little high…and it seems to be slowly increasing.  My car better not be having problems, since I’ve taken it into Pep Boys twice in the past week.  The last thing I want is to take it in there again. 

            I drive a little longer and my temperature isn’t decreasing.  It’s fluctuating between ½ and ¾ towards hot.  Then it stays on ¾, and I’m worried.  I get off the highway (at a constuction exit with no ramp to get back on—bad decision to get off here) and pull into a nearby parking lot.  I take of my white suit jacket, grab a napkin, and pop the hood.  I twist off my coolant cap, and to my surprise, it’s almost completely empty.  “How is this possible?  I just went to Pep Boys last week and had my coolant flushed.  Did they forget to fill it up?”

            Since I assume I’m like most people and don’t keep antifreeze in my trunk, all I have is some water which I bring with me everywhere I go.  I call my dad who doesn’t answer.  Then I call my younger brother.  I explain the situation and ask if I can add my water.  He said, “Yes, but it’s better if it’s distilled.”

            “Well, I don’t have distilled.”

            I get off the phone with him, but before I add the water, my dad calls.  He says, “Don’t add water, you will mess up the antifreeze ratio.  Drive with the heat on high, because it will cool it down.”

            That’s just what I want to hear, drive with the heat on high in 100 degree weather, so I can arrive at my meeting full on sweating.  That sounds like a party.

            “Okay.”

            I get back in the car and do just that.  The temperature seems to decrease a bit, and I even decide to drive slow (40 mph on the highway), because the temperature remains constant at ¾ towards Hot the slower I drive.  I have people honking at me, because I’m driving so slowly, but I don’t care.  My eyes are peeled to the gauge.  And then it increases…and increases…and increases more.  What the living daylights is going on?  The hits keeps coming…

            The gauge now shows that it’s almost all the way to “H,” so I begin to panic.  I don’t want to try to make it to the next exit, because my dad said if I drive when it hits “H,” I might blow a head gasket.  And I definitely don’t want to do that.  I feel like I have no choice.  I pull over on the highway, where there is no real shoulder, but I had to…hoping a car wasn’t going to hit me going 65 mph.

            I wait until the near lane looks clear, before I open my door.  I quickly rush to the front of my car, not knowing how long until another vehicle appears in that lane.  I add the only water I have, Brita filtered that I put in my bottle.  I don’t put too much in the coolant but about ¼ of a large water bottle.

            I tighted the cap, close the hood and rush back inside my car.  The oil from the cap stains my hands, and I can only hope I don’t touch any part of my white suit before I can wash them.

            For the remainder of the 15 minutes it would usually take me to get to my meeting (but it took me longer this time), I drove even slower on the highway.  I don’t want to risk anything.  People continued to honk, I continued to not care.  I arrive for the meeting, sweating, although I wore only a fancy tank top the whole way here.  My suit jacket had been sitting on the passenger’s seat since my first stop, since I had the heat blowing on high in my face and on my feet.

            Lucky for me, I had put my makeup powder in my purse this morning.  I don’t know what inspired me to do this, because I can’t recall the last time I brought any makeup, excluding lip gloss, with me.  Well, today, I needed it.  As I walk into the meeting, I’m shaking…my hands are trembling, and my legs feel like I can imagine a calf does when he is first learning how to stand.  They could give out, literally, at any time. 

            I was supposed to get to the meeting early to help, and when I see how many people are already there, I’m disappointed.  When I apologize and explain why I wasn’t there earlier, tears well up in my eyes, and I feel like I’m about to become an emotional wreck.  I gain control before it happens, and make my way to wash my hands.  For the next several hours, my mind is on anything but my car.

            I leave the meeting, knowing I have to make my way to the nearest Pep Boys.  When I called my brother again before the meeting, I asked if he could find the nearest one for me.  So, I called them, and they said they were about ten or fifteen minutes away.  I look on my gps, and luckily it says Pep Boys is 1.5 miles away.  Good, that’s super close.

            As I head that way, my eyes are trying to stay on the road but can’t help but glance at the gauge.  I drive less than 30 on a 50 mph road and see my temperature slowly increase to “H.”  Again, I can’t wait, I have to pull over, but there is no shoulder.  There is nowhere to stop.  I drive a little more, and I finally stop before an exit, right there in the road.  This time not even considering cars might hit me; I feel desperate.  I just want to hurry and get there already  I want this nightmare to be over.  I add more water to the coolant and wonder how much longer I need to go. 

            As soon as I start my car, I can see it in the distance and know I’m almost there.  Driving as slow as I can, my hands shake as they hold the steering wheel, and it takes everything out of me to not break down in tears.  But that’s the last thing I want those guys to see at Pep Boys…me crying.

            I tell the guys there the whole story of what has occurred today and how I’ve brought my cars into another one of their locations twice in the past 1 ½ weeks.

            An hour later, a man tells me that my radiator is busted, and I need a new one.  “You can’t drive anywhere like that.”

            “What’s the cost?  Do you have it?”

            “I’m not sure.  And I don’t know.”

            “Great.  Can we find out?”  My patience is wearing thin, about the situation, the fact that Pep Boys doesn’t seem to believe in air condition in the waiting area,…and wouldn’t you be looking it up to see the cost and if you have it in stock before I have to ask you?  I mean, really?!

            I call my dad, who tells me to look at the radiator.  The service attendent takes me out there and points to where the plastic covering meets the aluminum and how it’s obviously leaking.  The mechanic then walks over to us and takes off the radiator hose and shows us where the radiator is attached to the hose is broken.  My dad says this is wear and tear.  Great…

            They do have it in stock, it will take another 3 hours to fix and for the bargin price of $600.  Awesome!  It just so happens I took my book out of my purse this morning, thinking I wouldn’t need it…so now I’m going to be stuck here for a total of four hours with nothing to do.

            As I sit in the waiting room chair, I notice black marks on my white pants.  Guess that must have happened one of the three times I had to pull over to check on my car.  Awesome!  I lean my head against the wall and close my eyes.  I pray before I go to bed at night, but today I decided to do it while waiting for the gate to open.  Did HE think I was challenging HIM?  Did HE think when I said, “I know you don’t give me anything I can’t handle,” that I was really saying, “Give me something else….Go on…and I’ll show you that YES, I can handle IT too?”  Well, I wasn’t.  I wasn’t trying to say give me something else, and I’ll rise to that challenge.  I promise, my laptop ordeal was enough; I didn’t need anything else to go wrong.  But I got it anyways.  Lesson learned…keep praying at night.  Don’t stray for the norm on that one.  HE doesn’t like it.

            Well, the more I think about things, the more things don’t seem right.  I ask this Pep Boys service manager if it’s their practice to check the radiator if someone gets her coolant flushed, since it directly affects it.  I can tell he is hesitant to answer my question, which I understand.  He doesn’t want to get someone else in trouble.  His politically correct answer is, “I can only answer what has gone on here today.”

            “I understand that.  But what I’m asking is…if someone gets their coolant flushed, do you check to see the things that are directly affected by it?  The other service man told me it is obvious that it was leaking.”

            “If they see it, it’s our responsibility to tell the customer about it.”

            “Great, that’s all I needed to know.”

            So I call the original Pep Boys where I went to twice in the past 1 ½, once was just a few days ago.  I ask to speak with the service manager, and I explain the situation to him.  Afterwards, I say, “To say that I’m upset would be an understatement.  I don’t understand how I bring it to for a coolant flush, and your employee doesn’t bother to tell me there is a leak.  The same person saw it a few days ago to put in a PCV valve, knowing I just had a coolant flush, and still didn’t say anything.” 

            “I’ll see what I can do.  I’ll see if I can get you a discount today.”

            He calls back telling me he will give me a 10% discount on my service today plus a free oil change next time I need one.  If he thinks I want to go back to his Pep Boys, he’s smoking crack.  I say, “I understand how you want to get your customers in and out, but taking a few extra minutes to tell them about something that is your responsibiltiy will save them time and heartache in the long run.  I mean having to pull over in a white suit on the highway with no shoulder is not acceptable.  And all could have been prevented.”

            “Thank you for understanding.”

            What?  Did he actually just say that.  Apparently I shouldn’t have said, “I understand…,” because if the only thing he took away from that was me understanding, he didn’t get what I was actually saying….Maybe the district manager will comprehend what I have to say?!

            I get my car back several hours later.  Before I leave, I tell this service manager, “I know you weren’t trying to get someone else in trouble.”

            He says, “I’m teaching my own guys to ask probing questions like, ‘Why do you need a coolant flush?’ or ‘Are you having problems with something?’  That way it can prevent things like that, because a coolant flush isn’t a standard service people ask for.  So usually there is something else that the customer may not even know about.  It’s our job to know that and to ask more about it.”

            I get in my car and notice the “Check engine soon” light is on, so I walk back inside.  I tell the service manager, who pulls it around to discover the issue and fix it.

            A few minutes later, my car comes out…finished.  So, I leave, eager to get home, after an exhausting, emotional day…just to head into five o’clock traffic.  Lucky me!