By 
Edit: I didn’t intend for this post to be 1800 words long, so feel free to skip it if you don’t have the time. However, if stories of other people’s pain and misery makes you feel better about yourself, read on.
I’ve been a car owner for 5 years. My car has always performed pretty well, and other than the 6 accidents I’ve been in (none of them my fault – God bless Chicago drivers), the car has had no problems.
When the car needed maintenance, I’ve always taken it to the dealer that I bought it from. Their prices are a little bit higher than other places, but the service was always great, so I didn’t mind.
The only problem is the dealer is 30 miles away from me, and I have to make an appointment to go in.
This causes an issue when I need service ASAP. Take yesterday, for example. The day from Hell.
Long story short, I needed to get the “Check Engine” light shut off so I could pass an emissions test. Sure, I could have done this months ago, but because of my forgetfulness, procrastination, and laziness, I put it off and was now in a bind to get it done quickly.
I know what you’re thinking. “Scott, if you just took care of this months ago, you wouldn’t be in this bind.”
Shutup. Just sympathize with me on this one, ok?
Not knowing much about places that provide car service, I did some quick research online. I found a Jiffy Lube near my place that claimed to be able to diagnose and take care of Check Engine lights.
I drive to Jiffy Lube. I pull in. I get out of my car. I politely explain what I need to the man wearing a hair net. He just smiles and nods at me. I ask him if they can help me with my problem. His answer, I kid you not, was “Yeah sir! No sir. Oil change?”
I found someone who spoke English, and tried again. I was told they do not handle this service here, and that I should try an Autozone or a Pep Boys. He didn’t know where I could find one, but his manager might. I walk into the office to talk to the manager. I slip on the wet pavement and slice open my toe. It was one of those cuts that doesn’t hurt too bad, but bleeds like a mofo. Blood is now pouring onto the sidewalk. I decide to skip talking to the manager to tend to my wound and head home.
I quickly look up the nearest Autozone and Pep Boys.
Pep Boys isn’t too far. Great! I’ve never been there, but hey, Cars like them, and people love them, right?
I drive to Pep Boys. I walk over to the service counter, and notice there is a sign that says “Check Engine light on? We’ll check it for free!”
Perfect! Score one point for Pep Boys! I walk up to the service counter, tell them the problem, and get my car entered into their system.
“It’s going to be a 2 hour wait.”
Well, that sucks, but they were busy, and I didn’t have an appointment. Ok, I’ll wait.
“It’s going to be $97.80.”
Wait, what? I thought it was free?
“It’s free with a tune up.”
Well, fuck that. I was about to take off, then I realize I need to get this taken care of immediately, so I concede and agree to pay the fee.
2 hours go by. I spend my time watching the shitty TV they had setup. God dammit does daytime TV suck. All that’s on is soap operas, The View, and cooking shows. I watch some Cajun guys cook dirty rice and get very hungry.
2 and a half hours go by. I pretend to go to the drinking fountain in hopes that one of the people working will see me and say “oh your car is almost ready.” No such luck.
3 hours go by. I ask the lady who took my information if she knows where my car is in line. She says she’ll check. Great, thank you. She goes into the garage, talks to a mechanic, walks back to the waiting area, passes right by me, and goes back behind the counter to help other customers. You know, I gotta say, so far I’m not loving Pep Boys. I don’t even really like them. We’re barely acquaintances.
I get back into line, wait another 10 minutes, and ask where my car is.
Guess what I found out. Just guess.
My car was already worked on, the mechanic turned the paperwork in, and it was sitting on the counter for God knows how long. Awesome.
So what’s the deal with my car?
“The (car jargon) is cracked, that’s why the light is on. You need to take it to your dealer.”
You can’t fix it?
“No, you need to take it to your dealer.”
Do I have to pay the $100 bucks since you didn’t really do anything?
The guy’s manager was standing right next to him. They converse briefly about what work was done to my car and decide that yes, I do owe them the money.
Let’s recap here. I spent almost 3 and a half hours in a shitty Pep Boys’ waiting area, then paid almost $100 to be told “You need to take the car to your dealer.”
Hey Pep Boys – Do me a favor. Next time you’re going to fuck my ass raw, at least have the decency to do it a little quicker, ok?
On the way out all I could hear was “Cars like us, people love us!” (Read: “Cars like us, go fuck yourself!”)
What do I do now? I need to get my car fixed before I can pass an emissions test. I need to pass the emissions test before i can get a new sticker for my car. (Did I mention I got $150 in tickets because of an expired sticker? Yeah, I needed to get this taken care of today.)
I call the Secretary of State office, explain my situation, and ask for advice. They tell me to go to a DMV and purchase a 7 day sticker for $10. That will buy me some time to get my car taken care of, and will prevent me from getting more tickets. Sounds like a good idea. I go home, look up the nearest DMV, double check to make sure they provide the sticker I need, and head out again.
On the way to the DMV, I forget the address. No, I didn’t write it down. Why? Because I’m a fucktard, that’s why. Luckily, I have a personal assistant. (You can have one too. It’s free and it’s awesome. Fill out this form.)
He told me where the DMV was. Turns out I was just down the street from the place.
Everyone hates the DMV. The service is slow, and the people are almost always rude. I expect this when I go to the DMV. One thing that really drives me up a fucking wall is that the DMV doesn’t accept credit cards. It’s 2009, and the DMV doesn’t accept credit cards. I knew this ahead of time, so I made sure to go to an ATM and pick up cash.
Now I had double checked on the website that this DMV had the stickers I needed. I walk in, told the guy what I was there for.
“We don’t do that here. You need to go to this DMV.” And he hands me an address that is a few miles away.
Are you fucking kidding me.
I go to the 2nd DMV. The place is a fucking zoo. I wait in line, tell the guy what I need. Turns out this whole day could have been avoided if I went to the DMV first. I was able to purchase a 6 month sticker without the emissions test, provided that I get the test done by November. Not only that, but it would be $40 cheaper than the sticker I originally was going to buy. Great. I’ll take it.
I wait in the cashier line, and it occurs to me that I don’t have enough cash on hand. I was planning on spending $10, but now I needed $60. Shit.
But what’s this?? Big signs everywhere – “WE NOW ACCEPT CREDIT CARDS”
Finally! A bit of luck!
I walk to the window, hand her my sheet and my Visa card.
“We don’t accept Visa.”
…What.
“We only accept MasterCard, Discover, and AMEX. But don’t worry, there’s a kiosk around the corner that accepts Visa. It’s all automated so you can do it yourself.”
Ok, not a big deal. I walk to the kiosk and look at the lovely “Out of Order” sign on it.
Fuck. You.
I’m in a part of the city that is incredibly unfamiliar to me. I don’t know where the nearest ATM or Walgreens or CVS or anything is, and I didn’t remember seeing one driving in.
I ask a DMV employee if he knows where the nearest ATM is. He says there’s a thrift store across the street that has one, and if that one doesn’t work there is a convenient store 5 blocks down that has one.
I walk to the thrift store, and start to get nervous when I see about 30 different signs advertising “$5.99 adult DVDs” on the windows.
I walk to the ATM in the store, and the thing is in shambles. Parts were literally hanging off of the machine.
“ATM broken?” I ask the guy behind 3 inches of bullet proof glass.
“Yeah.. piss off.” He replies in a thick accent.
Lovely! I walk down 5 blocks to the convenient store. I walk toward the ATM. I see it is operating. Thank you Lord.
I swipe my card, enter my withdrawl amount, wait a few seconds.. and BEEP BEEP BEEP.
“OUT OF CASH. PLEASE CONTACT SERVICE DEPT.”
The ATM had no cash in it. I ended up walking around until I found another ATM.
I go all the way back to the DMV. I walk in. I tell the guy I already waited in line, I have everything I need, I just need to pay. He tells me I need to wait in line like everyone else.
But, I already took care of my business, I just need to go to the cashier to pay.
“Sir, you have to wait in line.”
Fine. I wait in line, I get to the window, I explain what I was there for and how I just needed to pay, and the first thing the guy tells me is:
“You didn’t need to wait in line, you should have just gone to the cashier.”
I was so defeated at this point I think I apologized for wasting his time.
I’ve now been out and about for 7 hours. I haven’t showered. I haven’t eaten anything. I’m tired. I’m cranky.
But I got my sticker. I still need to take my car in.
It was a horrible, horrible day, and my butt is really, really sore from the ass rapings I received all day.
Worst part is Pep Boys didn’t even want to cuddle afterward.
